No  .250 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, l‘rloe, V0] 
l I l

3 Yelf- No. 98 Wumux ST. NEW YORK. n" Gent'-

TEXAS CHARLIE’S WILD RIDE.

 

BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM.

/R\—:3§N‘Ak‘\l

HOLDING TEE LARIAT AS A REINS TO DRIVE HIS NUVEL TEAM, CHARLIE STARTED OFF THE HORSEfi
AT A GALLOP ALONG THIS TRAIL INTO THE INTERIOR,

 

TexaaGharlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

“lens Gharlie's Wild Ride;

THE BOY RANGER.

A Narrative of Thrilling Incidents in the Life
of Captain Charles Eigelow, of, the Lone
Star State, whose Career as a Young
Guide, Indian-Fighter and Ranger
has been full of Romantic Ad-
venture and Deadly Peril.

BY COL. PRENT {SS INGRAHAM,

AUTHOR or “ADVENTURES or BUFFALO BrLL,”
“WILD BILL,” ETC., mo.

CHAPTER. I.
7 THE CHASE.

“WALL, Charlie, ther fandango hev ended,
fer I kin dance no longer ter an tune; but you
kin jist skip on an’ leave ther o :1 man fer ther
Injuns ter scalp an’ ther coyotes tor chaw.”

‘I do not think it is kind of you, Old Hick-
ory, to think I would leave you now, for I

would rather die right here with you than live “

with the feeling
you was dying.” r »
“ Leetle pal-d, it hain’t yer way, I knows; but
then I hev had my day, and. you is jist startin’
in on ther trail 0’ life.
“ I hev gone it fine, too; hed my ups and
downs, and tuk things easy in ther sixty-five
ear I hev hooped it through ther canyons 0’
life. But ther end are come, as that error
struck Vitals, and I knows When I hev got my
death—wound, though I never had one store.

“ We is well ahead 0’ ther Injuns. and ridin’
two horses, fer yer kin rest one and then t’other,
you/kiddies): out 0’ that way.

“Hold right dead sow-east and ypu’ll strike
white-folks’ kcntry aforo two days, and tell ’em

that I had deserted you when

how Old Hickory hed ter cave at last to a Injun 

arrer. '

“I hain’t got more‘n a hour or so ter live, an’
yer kin leave me at yonder timber, nn’ when
that reds comes up I’ll jist keep one revolver ter
0 on on ’em with, which will give me comp’ny,
,e it do be Injuns, to ther happy hunting-
grounds.”

“Hickory, I'll not leave you: but, as I see
that you are suffering, we will halt in the tim-
ber yonder, and I can stand the Injuus off, or
take the consequencos if I cannot.”

“ Boy you has ther sand 0’ your daddy, who
was fuli o’ grit, as I knows, fer I has fought.
with him in Mexico and on these pa rarer-s.

, “But I don’t want yer father’s son ter lose
his scalp from tner very regard I hed fer yer
fat er.’

“I won’t go, Hickory, and that settles it.”

“Yer is as contrary as a woman."

“I’will stand by you, old man, come what

may.
“ Waal, we’ll hunt ther timber, fer I are git-
tin‘ too weak to hold on much longer.”

The speakers Were an old weather-tanned
prairie-man and a be of fifteen.

They were both ressed in buckskin, well
mounted, well armed, and were flying for their
lives, for far in their rear came a party of red
horsemen in hot pursuit.

The elderly man was a thorough type of the
Texas bordermen, and he was known along the
outskirts of civilization as Old Hickory.

But now his face was livid from suffering,
Endlthe seal of death was soon to be set upon

is rps.

His companion was, as I have said, a boy of
fifteen.

A handsome, fearless - faced, sun - burned'
youth, who is a real hero today, for he has
carved out for himself a name that is well
known in the Lone Star State.*

He was dressed in buckskin leggings, a hunt-
ing-shirt of the some, were a sombrero looped
up on one side with a silver star, and had a belt
about his waist containing a pair of. revolvers
clad a bowie-knife, while at his back was hung 3
r1 e.

His form was well-knit and agile, and he sat
his horse with that free and easy air ntural to
‘ Southern youths, who have learned to ride from
Childhood and not been taught by a stifl pro-
fessional rider.

The horses of the two riders showed that they
had been driven hard.

The clump of timber ahead was a small grove
of half an acre in Size, and showing the remnants
l of many a camp fire, for as )ring was there and,
, lenty of wood, so that hot Indian and pale-
! ace had found it a convenient halting-place.

l Soon the timber was reached, and, as the
; horses came to a halt, Old Hickory dropped
‘ heavily to the ground.

“ Couldn’t hold on longer. Charlie, boy.

“ I hev been like a. out an’ hed nine lives, but
Iguess ther ninth one are about gone now,”

l said the old man.

l Charlie had already sprung to the ground and

l was making his comrade as comfortable as pos-
sl 9.

‘ As soon as he got him placed in as easya

position as was possible, be seized a stout pole.
1 which had once aerVed as a wagon pole, and
'movedlogs into position about them so as to
‘ form a little fort.

l There was a. natural hollow in the ground just

Tthere, and this had already been added to by

ldirt, thrown up as a fortification, and this,
. with the logs rolled to the top, made quitea
secure retreat some twelve feet square.

The horses were then watered at the spring.
the canteens filled, and the animals were led
into the inclosure by Charlie and told to lie
down on one side, which they did with prompt

[‘ obedience. ‘ 

Then they were quickly hoppled to prevent 

 

‘ Charles Blgelow—Texns Charlie—was born in
Houston, Texas, in 1315. I lo has been a scout, guide,
ranger, cowboy, ranclwro and Indian interpreter,
and )8 well known in ’l‘cxun history, winnin a name V
as a during border-boy long before he left is teens.
Texas Charlie‘s father was the third mu or of Hous-
ton. and was also a noted soldier in t a Mexican

, wan—Tun Amos.

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger 8

 

their getting up, and Charlie began to fill in the
crevices of the little fort with ieces of wood
and dirt, Old Hickory watching im the while
with eyes thnt were rapidly growing dim.

“You is fixing to stay, Charlie, it do look
like." he said, in a low tone.

“ Yes, old man, the Injuns are most hero,
and I‘ll be ready for them when they come."

“ You has done well, boy, and you is goin’ ter
do better.

“ I is only sorry on your account I hes got tor
leave ther trail 0’ life, for yer is a long way
from home, an’ when yer good folks trusted yer
on a scmit with Old Hickory, they didn’t think
I was goin’ to desert yer, did they 7”

“ Oh, Hickory, they will feel so bad if I have
to go home without ou,” and Charlie choked
up at the thought 0 losing the old man with
whom he had trod many a ong trail.

“ I has l'arnt yer all I c’u’d, boy.

“I has taughted yer how ter trail I n or
Greaser, an’ hes let yer know ther cusse ss 0’
both.

“ Yer hes kilt yer fust Injun under my tutor-
in’? an’ tliet won‘t be yer last.

‘I hes got ter go, but yer won’t fergit me,
boy, I knows, and when yer comes by this way
ag‘in in years ter come. jist kinder look down
on ther spot whnr Old Hickory are sleepin’, an’
sing ther pretty songs yer have singed for me,
fer they won’t distarb me.”

“Hickory, don’t talk so, or you'll make me
want to die too.

“ Ah! the red-shins have halted just out upon
the prairie and think they have us in a trap.”

“ Wan], tbar’ll be wailin’ in thar camp ef
they crowds yer, boy.

“ I wish I c’u‘d be p yer sling lead a bit, but I
hain’t able ter git up, an’ I gits weaker oncom-
mon fast, for this leetle red spring comes a-bub-
blin’ out o’ my side pretty peart— Ahl boy, look
out for ’em, fer thet yell means they is comin'
with a rush upon er,” and as Old Hickory
spoke the wildest ye ls resounded from the half-
score of red—skins who came charging down
u on the brave boy, who was alone the defender
of the little fort.

CHAPTER II.
CHARLm’s FIGHT FOB. 1m.

THE red-skins had pressed on hard after Old
Hickory and his boy comrade, for they knew
who they were and were determined to capture
them alive if possible.

A runner had come into the Comanche camp
with the news that their dreaded foe, Old
Hickory the scout, had invaded their country,
and had with him a young boy brave who on
several occasions before had accompanied the
old Indian-fighter.

They had been met, the runner reported, by
four warriors, and he alone had escaped to tell
the story.

The Comanche chief picked fifteen of his best
warriors, and with their best arms and ponies
they started upon the trail of the daring pale—

aces.

They found them rather sooner than they de-
sired, for two of their warriors dropped dead
from their saddles before the! suspected the

 

resence in that immodiatp vicinity of Old

ickory and Charlie.

Then began a running fight, the Indians
pressing on hard, and the whites standing at
bay when the wished to rest their ponies.

Several In ians fell from time to time when
pressing their toes too hard, and at last their
number dwindled down to ten, while the dam-
a e they had done was to severely wound Old

ickory in two places, slightly wound Charlie
in the leg, and send an snow into the neck of
the boy’s horse.

Thus it was that the flight and runnin fight

continued to the timber where the litte fort
was so cleverly constructed by Charlie.

Seeing that the Indians were charging, the
dagilng boy did not flinch, but stood his ground
no y

He was armed with a. doubleAbarreled rifle
and shot-gun combined, while Old Hickory had
his rifle, an old-fashioned piece, and both had
their pistols.

His weapons, and those of the scout Charlie
placed at hand ready for use, and when the red-
skins came charging into the timber from difler—
ent directions, he watched his chance and raised
the rifle of Old Hickor .

It was a most critica moment, and one which
a ny man would have shrunk from, for the
Indians came charging down upon the little fort
from three diflerent directions, yelling like
mad, and causing their nies to spring from side
to side to destroy the aim of their foes, for they
little knew that the boy was the only defender.

Old Hickory’s dying eyes turned anxiously
upon the boy.

He had seen him tried before, but would he
now, in such a forlorn hope, not lose his nerve
he wondered.

For himself he did not care, for he was too
near the shadow-land to fear; but for the brave
boy he felt a pang of deepest sympathy.

He had been placed under his care, and sad,
indeed, would it be if he never rcturned to the
home where those that loved him dwelt and
anxiously looked for his coming?

.He saw Charlie raise the rifle and take a cool
aim.

Then the piece flashed forth its deadly bullet,
and he asked eagerly:

“Did yer miss, boy ardl”

“ Oh, no! I can’t a ord a miss now " was
the cool response, as Charlie seized h s own

gun.

“ Yer’ll do to bet on of or hain’t got atrum
in yer hand,” said Old ickory, and with his
lastdword the riflebarrel cracked, and Charlie
crle :

“ I downed him, too."

“ Bully fer vou, Charlie boy; now let ’em
hev ther slugs,” cried Old Hickory, with some—
thing like his old fervor.

The shot gun bnrrel was loaded with buck—
shot, and Charlie had threwn half a dour: bul-
lets in on top to make greater havoc.

His eye scanned the different warriors at.
glance, and seeing two together be aimed at
them so as to scatter the lead into both, as well
as their nies.

Char] e’s finger touched the trigger when the!

 

Tens Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

» were side by side, and the load 01' buckshot uni! l noiter the tree-tops in the direction from whence
bullets went tearing into the flesh of the two l the shaft had comm,

warriors and their ponies with fatal eflect.”
“ Three at a shot, Old Hickory,” shouted

Charlie. as the two warriors and one pony went ‘

down under the merciless hail of lead.

But Old Hickory made no rep] , while Char-
lie, too busy now to turn towar him, seized a
revolver in each hand and began to rattle forth
a hot fire upon the Indians, who were now be-
coming demoralized.

“ Hurrah, Hickory! they are running,” cried
Char-liaas he saw the red-skins hasti y hunt
cover and begin to retreat.

‘ But Old Hickory made no reply, and turning
uiclkly toward him, the boy saw that he was

ea .

CHAPTER IIL
AN INDIAN rams a woman.

FOR an instant Charlie was too much overcome
by the death of his old (yard to utters. word, but
stood in silence gazing own 11 on him.

He had hoped all along that ickory’s wound
was not as bad as the old scout feared, and that
he would get over it; but the sudden death of
theman, an instant after he had spoken to him,
alinost overwhelmed the brave boy, and for a
minute his eyes were too dimmed with tears to
see the upturned face.

He had just fought a good fight, and beaten

v back a toe from whom he had not flinched in
the moment of direst peril.
lTwo warriors lay dead before him, and an-
other brave and two ponies had been severely
wounded, the latter struggling about in agony,
while the‘ former had crawled to a friendly tree
for refuge.

Brushing the tears from his eyes Charlie
glanced down tenderly upon the body of his
dead friend.

Then he started, for he saw what had so sud-
denly taken 01! the old scout, as an arrow was
sticking in his neck. '

, From whence had that arrow come? The

'boy’s life upon the plains, and especially under
no apt a tutor as Old Hickory, caused him to
take note of things which would have escaped
an ordinary eye.

By this he discovered that the arrow had not
come straight in its flight iron: a position level
with the ground, as it could .never have gotten
through the breastwork of logs and dirt.

Had it been fired upward and then come down
into the fort, the force would never have been

eat enough for it to bury itself in the neck of

he scout as it had.

The position or the arrow, too, showed that
its flight from the bow to the neck of Old Hick-
or had been on a straight line.

rom whence, then had it come, but from an

elevation that enabled the sender to look down
into the fort.

This discovery was made by Charlie much
quicker th 'n it has taken me to tell about it,

and he uiokl dro ed to h it 0 tot si ht ,
q y pp r a e at u g ' ' he had wounded fall back from his shelter be-

knowing that the same deadly shot would soon
,, send an arrow searchin for his life.
' With a stick he force a hole through the top

e: the brpastwork of earth. and began to recon- 1

 

The main body of Comanches had fallen back
and out of range of the deadly rifles, and were
consulting excitedly together, and countia
them, Charlie saw that, besides the two dea
Indians and the wounded one hugging the tree,
one other was missing.

“ He‘s the one up a tree,” muttered Charlie,
and he continued his search for him.

At last he descricd the object of his search
perched upon a. limb some fifty feet from the
ground.

The nature of the tree was such, with its
broken branches that he had been enabled to

climb up there during the excitement without

attracting attention.

Not knowing that the boy was looking up
theories as to from whence had come the shot
that had killed the old scout, he did not take
particular care to hide himself.

He was so elated at having slain Old Hickory
and so anxious to kill Charlie, so as to get all
the credit, that he became reckless.

He doubtless thought that, could be send an
arrow into the heart of the boy, he could am-
ber down the tree, rush alone upon the ittle
fort, secure the two scalps, and thus immortalize
himself with his tribe.

He had not the remotest idea that Charlie
knew from whence the arrow had come, and he
would not give his war-cry of triumph, and
thus tell his comrades what he had done and
perhaps cut himself out of his expected honor.,

Charlie watched him closely, and at the same ‘
time was enlarging the hole so that he could
put the muzzle of Old Hickory’s rifle through
and get a shot at him.

He did not, however, neglect to keep an eye U

upon the group of Indians on the prairie, and
when raisin his head to look at them, he pro- '
tected it wit a piece of wood from a shot from
the wounded red-skin and the one in the tree.

The former shot at him, and an arrow buried
itself in the wood; but the latter was too smart
to betray himself by any such an act.

The shot of the wounded Indian seemed to at-
tract to him, Charlie then saw, the attention of
the one in the tree, and, to his surprise, he saw
the highly-perched red-skin turn his bow as
though to shoot his comrade. ,

Could he intend to kill his companion in
arms

Could he be a red‘skin from some hostile tribe
to the wounded Comanche?

So Charlie wondered, and then gazing again
out upon the prairie, he counted the ponies and
their riders and saw that the red-skin in the tree
must be one of the band.

Still he saw that he was evidently hostile to
the wounded Indian.

Perhaps he was his foe, and intended to take
this opportunit of getting rid of him, and
thus put out o the way a dangerous rival for
the hand of some red-skinned beauty.

While Charlie was wondering, an arrow went
on its fatal flight, and he saw the red-skin whom

bind the tree.
“ He has killed his comrade, that is certain;
and if poor Old Hickory’s dead. line could only

 

 

 

 

Tens Charlie. the Boy Ranger» 5

 

speak, he could tell me why—but alas! hols
dead.

“ Well, the red-skin in the tree has done me a

favor in killing his comrade, and now I must ‘

return it.”

Charlie smiled grimly as he spoke, at the
manner in which he intended to return the
favor, and shoved the muzzle of Old Hickory’s
rifle through the hole to do so.

It was a long-range shot, but Charlie had a
good rest for the weapon, and after a deliberate
aim be ten bed the trigger.

The Indian feeling that he was not visible,
not having his retreat discovered by the boy, was
standing on a limb at his dizzy hight watching
for a chance to shoot Charlie, when the bullet
hit him squarely in the side.

With a yell of mortal terror and agony com-
mingled, he sprung oil from the limb and shot
downward like an arrow, taming over and over
in his flight, while his bow and arrows tell
about him. ..

“That Injun has taken a tumble,” coolly said
Charlie as he drew. his rifle hack, and then turn-
ing his eyes upon the dead body of Old Hickory,
he continued sadly:

“ And I have avenged you, dear old man.”

CHAPTER IV.
THE FLIGHT RENEWED.

TEE Indians heard the wild cry of their com-
rade, saw the form come whirling downward
throu h the air, and then to their ears came the
dull t ud as the mass of humanity struck the
ground.

They did not yet know that Old Hickory was
dead, and they registered another determination
for reVenge against him.

It was yet an hour to sunset, and when the
darkness came they would act.

As silent as specters they would glide through
the timber, and then, when all had gained a
certain position, they would rush upon the little
fort—and the and must come.

,Someof them must die they knew, but with
three to one, as they believed they were, they
must in a hand-to-hand fight conquer even Old
Hickory and his brave boy pard.

Had the old scout been alive, he might have
decided to remain in the fort and take the con-
se uences; but with Charlie it was different.

e'knew that his horses had had a good rest,
and besides they had had water and a little
, which had not been the case with the

ass
' fldian ponies, for the prairie where they were
had been burned over, and the spring was within .

ten feet of the little fort.

In the timber about the spring there was
glen? of juic grass, and here the two horses

ad ed unti taken into the little inclosure,
while they had had a good drink at the spring.

Charlie’s experience with the .Indians tod
him. that they would await until dark ,to at-
tack, feeling assured that he would make no
eflort to leave a shelter which he had sought

- and made so stron .

he determin to fool them.
His first work in this direction was to uncoil

ythe lariat from about the shoulder of Old

' 1

Hickory, while he said, quietly:
" They shall not have your scalp. old man.”

 

Then he drew the body over to the horse Old
Hickory had ridden, and placing it upon the
animal‘s buck, fastened it‘securely there.

His next move was to watch his chance,
spring over the fort, and cut with his knifea
large armful of grass, which he gave to the
horses.

i If the Indians saw him they did not heed his
1' act, feeling sure or their game when night came
on

1 The broad sombrero of Old Hickory was then
,‘ made to serve the place of a bucket, and the
‘ horsss each had a batful of water, and certainly
seemed refreshed.

Then the bopplcs about their feet were re-
moved, so that they would not be cramped by
them when needed, and Charlie devoted his
time next to looking after his was ons. ‘

“ I would like to get the scalp 0 that red who
killed poor Old Hickor ,” he muttered, and he
looked wistfully tower the spot where the red.
skin lay.

“ I will try it, anyhow.’I

So with this bold determination he sprung over
the wall of his little for‘t, and run like a deer to
“here the Indian lay, carrying his rifle in his
band.

He reached the body of the red-skin before
the Indians saw his act, for they did not antici-
pate that he would leave the fort.

Instantly they uttered wild yells and started
toward him, sending a. shower of arrows as they
advanced. .

Charlie had never scalped an Indian in his
life, but he had seen the work Scientifically done
by Old Hickory, and he intended to pattern
:1 ter the actions of the scout as nearly as possi~

9.

He had no time for practice, and in fact but
one sub'ect to practice upon, and he quickly
seized t e scalp-lock, gavo his knife a sudden
turn about it, huddering as he did so, and
wlrenched the gory trophy from its resting-
p see.

“I hated to do it, but he killed poor Old
Hickory,” he said aloud, as he turned and leveled
his rifle at his toes, who were advancing rapidly. ’
Seeing his act, and knowing the deadly weapon
well, the red-skins threw themselves upon their
faces, and without firing the boy bounded away
like a deer for his retreat.

With yells of rage the Indians followed, firing
, as they came on; but Charlie sprung over the
, works unhurt, and seizin Old Hickory’s som-
:‘ brero, placed it upon his end and leveled his

 

n 9.

He knew that the Comanches were not aware

‘ of Old Hickory’s death, and his quick discharge

‘ of the rifle, thh the scout’s hat showin above
the breastwork, would 've them an i ea that
he was ready for their oes.

‘ The shot was a little too hurried, and did not
do deadly work: but the bullet struck a Coman-
che in the hand, and this proved hint enough to
cause him and the others to beat a hast ro-

: treat, especially as they were not mounte .

Charlie dropped the rifle and seizing his own
weapon sent a shower of bullets from the shot-

eir movements greatly.
“ Now. ponies. we have got to set up and

 

ggn barrel flying after them, which accelerated. ,

l

    
  
    
  
   
 
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
   
    
   
   

 

    
     
   
   
     
       
     
     
     
       
    
     
      
      
 
      

 

      
     
       
     
       
     
     
   
       
       
   
   
   
   
    
     

    

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

  

 

dust,” cried Charlie quick] , as he hastily re-
loaded his weapons, and t on tore away one
side of the little fort, so as to enable the horses
to get out.

Aiding the horse that bore the body of the
old scout, to rise, Charlie called to his own ony
to get up, and mounting, dashed out 0 the
fort.

He carried the rifle in his hand, ready for use,
and at his back slung his own gun, while he led
the horse bearing Old Hickory, the animal
keeping up well by the side of its companion.

So enraged were the Comanches at seeing
the scalp of their comrade taken by a boy from
before their eyes, and so busy were they plot-
ting what they would do when night came on,
that Charlie had gotten thirty paces from the
fort before they realized that he intended to es-
cape.

Then with wild yells they rushed to their
ponies and‘began the pursuit, for they then saw
that Old Hickory, their greatly dreaded foe
was ead. .

Charlie urged his horses into a rapid gallop,
and refreshed by their drink, the grass they
had gotten and their lying down rest, they
moved off at a willing pace that gave the boy
high he es.

The ndians, almost famished for water, as
were their horses, stopped at the spring to
quench their thirst; and found it almost a mud-
hole, which would take a long time to get clear
enough to drink. '

But in spite of the muddy water the onies
shoved their noses down deep into it, an ‘ thus
some precious time was gained by Charlie in his
flight for life.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE manner AT THE oasvn.

CHARLIE held his own so well against the pur-
suing Comanches, that when darkness settled
upon the earth he had gained a long distance on
them, and felt no dread of being captured.

He had begun a wild rairie life with a. ven-
geance, and yet his bol nature was one to love
the excitement of the danger, and he felt proud
of the manner in which he had outwitted his
toes. and thought of the stories he would have
to relate upon his return home.

As soon as it grew very dark he changed his
course to a right angle, and continued to do
this for severe hours, so as to throw the In-
dians wholly of! his trail.

He also Blackened the pace of his horses to a
walk, for the animal bearing the body of Old
Hickory began to feel distress at the dead
weight upon him.

Toward midnight, confident that the Co:
manches could no [on er follow his trail, after

 

the chase he had led t em, and that with their
small force would not do so on the morrow, he
be an to look about for a camping-ground. 

9 found a snug spot in a clump of timber, ‘
and soon had his horses unsaddled, placing the
bogy of the scout tenderly to one side.

e dared not build a fire, so ate his supper in
darkness and silence, and then, utterly worn ‘
out. lay down on the same blanket with his 1

dead cOmrade, seeming to feel a comfort in be-
ing near the scout, though he was silent in
death.

The sun was rising, and peering into his face
when he awoke, and he sprun to his feet and
glanced about him in a dazed incl of way, as
though not at first able to recall all that had
happened, and he called out:

“ Come, old man, it is time to be on the go.”

Then over him came the rush of thought that
told him what had happened, and the tears
came into his 0 es as they fell upon the form
that had shared is blanket with him.

The horses had had a good rest and plenty of
water and grass, so that they no longer looked
worn out, but ready for another day’s travel.

“I must bury the poor old man,” muttered
Charlie. and after eatin his breakfast from
force of habit, rather 1; an from enjoym-nt
upon that morning, he soughtaspot in which
to dig a grave for Old Hickor .

A grassy knoll on the ban of a small creek
was selected, and the knife of the brave boy
was soon throwing out the dirt.

After gettin it the requisite size and depth,
he rolled the ody in its blanket and gently

laced it in the lonely resting- lace, throwing
in the earth upon it in a ten or manner that
showed deep feeling for the dead.

At last the mound was made, and the boy
stood gazing sadly down upon it.

He was many ong miles from home, and be-
lieved that no living human being was near him,
unless it might be straggling Indians, or a
hunter.

“ Senor, on are my prisoner l”

The wor s broke most startlingly upon the
ears of Charlie Bigelow, for they were spoken
within a few steps of him.

His belt of arms he had taken off, to enable
him to work the better, and the rifle and shot-
gun leant against a tree not far distant, yet too
far for him to reach.

His only weapon was the knife which he held
in his hand.

But, had he been armed, resistance would
have been uSeless, for before him stood three
men, all covering him with revolvers, and back
in the timber were half adozen more, mounted,
and holding the reins of the animals that be-
Loinged to the trio who so suddenly confronted

in.
They had come upon him unnoticed in his
grief and hard work, and the were a villainous-
ooking set, whom the boy ew at once to be
Mexicans.

As Mexicans, and in that locality, they could
belong to but one band, and that was an outlaw
band that had long been a terror upon the
Texas border, and whom the Rangers hunted
down without inerc , for mercy was not asked
or given then upon t 9 Rio Grande.

“ Who are you?” asked Charlie, though he
but too well knew how to answer his own ques-
tion.

“ We are Mexican soldiers,” was the re-
spouse.

“Mexican Marauders you mean,” fearlessly
responded Charlie, speaking in Spanish, which he
spo 9 well.

“ How dare you accuseus of being Marauders.

x.

   

 

 

   
   
 

 
  

 

  

 

 

  
   
  
   
   
  

 

    

Texan Charlie. the Boy Ranger. 7

 

boy!" angrily asked the man who appeared to
be the leader.

" Mexican soldiers would not be upon Texan
and, while the Mexican Marauders are continu-
ally robbing and murdering Texans upon their
own ground,” came the bold answer.

“ We are soldiers, and we havs come here to
arrest you.”

“ To arrest me? What have I done to on?”

“ You killed our comrade and have just uried
him there, and would soon have made your
esca e, had we not come up as we did."

“ he man who lies there was my friend and
comrade, and he was slain by Indians. 1 know
nothing of your comrade,” indignantly said
Charlie.

“ He lies in that grave and you put him
there, for yonder stands his horse, and here are
his rifle and belt of arms, which we recognize,
so I shall arrest you as his murderer.”

“ Open the grave and see if it is not my friend
as I say.”

“There is no need of that young senor, for
you must go with us and answer to the charge
of murder.”

Charlie was powerless to resist, and ten min-
utes after was riding away upon his own horse,
a prisoner to the band of Mexicans.

 

CHAPTER VI.
was DEATH SENTENCE.

AFTER their capture of Charlie, the Mexicans
rode rapidly back toward their own country,
crossing the river in hot haste, and seeking a
stronghold in the hills where they defied pur-
suit from all in authority.

Charlie saw that he was treated as an impor-
tant risoner, and wondered why it was that
they ad made the charge against him which
they had.

To have opened the grave would have shown
them that it was not a. Mexican that lay in it,
and this they had refused to do, while they
claimed to reocguize the horse and accouter—
ments of Old Hickor as those that had belonged
to their dead comm e.

Arriving in sight of the stronghold in the
hills, Charlie was securely blindfolded, and
when the bandage was removed from his eyes,
he saw that he was iii a wild and picturesque
camp in the hills. _

About him were nearly half a hundred v11-
lainous-looking men, who were gambling in
groups, smoking, sleeping or gazing at him.

There were tepees instead of cabins for them
to dwell in, and upon a plain near by were
hundreds of horses, cattle and sheep, evidently
the results of many a daring raid upon Texas

 

301 .

Charlie had long known of the Mexican Ma-
rauders and their doings, and heard how Don
Keno their chief, was the most cruel man alive.

He did not now doubt but that he was in the
Marauders’ camp, and expv‘cted that he was to
make the acquaintance of the cruel Don.

He was not mistaken for soon he was led up j
toa tepee before which sat a man smoking a l
cizarrito. and at the same time leisurely Slpping “

a glass of wine, while on a rustic table near
him stood a silver decanter.

The man was a Mexican, above the usual
hight of his race, and had a dark, interesting
face, though one that was to be dreaded.

He was flusth dressed in the icturesque and
rich costume of his country, anglieuvily armed
\\ ith silver‘mounted revolvers and a short
sword that hung by a silver chain to his side.

His face was shaded by his broad sombrero,
but Charlie saw his dark eyes fixed upon him
with a look in which there was not an atom of
mercy.

“ his is the boy, Juan, which you say killed
Pedro?“ said the chief, as Charlie advanced be-
fore him.

“ Yes, senor.”

“ You must have pursued him far to be gone
so long.”

“ We did, senor; we found the trail of Pedro,
and, as you bade us, ushed on hard after it
determined that the cserter and robber should
not escape.

“ He must have' ridden into an ambush, set
for him by this boy, for we found him dead and
buried, and the prison or standing by the grave.”

“ No one else near?”

“ No, Don Keno.”

“And the gold that Pedro, the deserter, car-
ried of! with him i”

“ We could not find it, senor.”

“ Then the boy has hidden it?”

“Yes, chief.”

“ It will do him no 00d," and turning to
Charlie and speaking in ‘ng'lish, with only the
slightest accent, the chief continued:

‘ So, oung senor, you have killed one of my
hand, w 0, though a robber and a deserter, pur-
sued hv my men, was yet a Mexican, and you
are a Texan.”

Charlie saw two things at a lance.

The first was that the men w 10 had captured
him were those sent in pursuit of the desertei‘,
and they were afraid to return without him.

The second was that, though the man was a.
deserter, he was a Mexican, and for a Texan to
kill him, granted that his accusers told the
truth, meant death to the murderer.

Be well understood his danger, but said
boldly:

“ I did not kill the man, senor, as that man
says.”

“Why do you deny what can be proveni”
sternly said t e chief.

“I had .just buried a man, I admit; but he
was my friend, a scout, who had been killed by
Indians.

“ They came upon me unawares, and accused
me of illing their comrade, and refused to
open the grew, as I asked them to do, to see
that it was not their com anion.”

“This is a subterfuge, on Keno, to escape,
for we saw him bury Pedro, and of course knew
who it was in the grave.”

“ He said he recognized the horse of my com-
rade as that ridden by the man you refer to.

“ Will you ask him to show the animal, senor,
and you will know?”

“ Certainly,” said the chief quickly, and he
added:

 

,lvw

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

“ Bring Pedro's horse here, Juan."

“Yes senor," and the man deported to soon
return leading a horse that was certainly not

' the one that had belonged to Old Hickory.

“ That is the horse of Pedro, sir; now what
have on to say?” and the chief turned to Char-
lie, w 0 was certainly taken aback at having
the horse roduced.

“They ound the horse, but not the man, and
it helps them in their story about me,” thought
Charlie.

“I have only to say, senor, that I am not
guilty of the charge against me,” he said,
calm y.

, “ Are you a Texan?”

l‘ Yet I

“ Are you a Ranger?”

“ I am not, sir, but I hope to be.” ’

“Do you know where Major Hall’s Rangers
encam ’

“ I o, sir.”

“ How many Rangers has he?”

“ Fifteen are always kept in camp ready for
use, and the remainder stay~ upon their ranches

, read for call.”

“ ajor Hall remains in camp, I behave, all
the time?”

“ The encampment is on his ranch, and his
horse is very near.”

“ You know it welli”,

“Yes, sir.

“ I hate Major Sam Hall, for he had my
brother shot some years ago, and I have sworn
ven eance against him and his Rangers."

‘ “ our brother was uilty of some crime or
Sam Hall would never ave had him shot, and
the Rangers have also sworn vengeance a ainst
you and your outlaws," boldly said Charlie.

“ You are a plucky fellow for your years,"
the chigsremarked.

. “ Ye are no sign of bravery,” was the cool

replvx _
‘ Well, we Will see how much you love life.”
“I love it a great deal,” was the frank re-
use.
“ You have murdered one of my men and you
r are ere sen ence 0 ea , or now
th by t d t d th f I tell
you that I shall have you shot at sunsst.”
Charlie turned very pale, and his 11' s quiv—
ered at this terrible doom con fronting im, but
he said in a low, distinct tone:
.“ You will find that if 1 am but a boy I am a
Texan and can die like one."

CHAPTER VII.
run DON’S orrna.

"You are a game one,” and Don Keno
looked admirineg at Charlie after his plucky
words. '

The boy made no reply; he could say noth-
ing, for his heart was full, but he was uerving
himself to {meet his fate with true courage.

He did not lose hope, and it seemed to him
that Don Keno, vile as he was, merciless as he
had shown himself, could not put him to death
when he had not really harmed them.

But upon this matter the Mexican Marauder

chief soon set his mind in the rixht channel of

 

thinking he had nothing to hope for from him.
as he remarked quietly:

“ You do not fear death, you say i”

“ I do fear death, but I will meet it bravoly.”

“ You are very young."

“ Yes.”

“Life is before you with all its pleasures, and
if I mistake not you are ambitious?”

“ I wish to make a man one of these days of
whom my kindred will not be ashamed.”

“Well, there is a way in which you can save
your life.” ‘

“ How do on mean, senor!"

“I mean t at if you will do as I wish you to,
I will not kill you.’

“ What do you wish me to do!”

“You have told me that you are acquainted
with the camp of Major Sam Hall and his
Ran ersi”

6‘ am.”

“ And you can lead me there?"

“ I could.”

“And you will!”

“ Alone?”

H No. i)

“ ith your band!”
It es.”

“. For what purpose?”

“ For what purpose would you think the
Mexican Marauders would wish to be led
against the Texan cam i”

” To surprise and kil them." \

“ Exactly.”

“And you expect me to lead on against my
own people?” asked Charlie With surprise and
indignation depicted upon his fearless face.

“Yes,” was the smiling reply.

" I will not do it.”

“ Then I must force you to do so.”

“ You cannot force me to do so vile an act,”
hotl reslponded the boy.

“ wil make you an ofler.”

“ Well?”

“ Lead me by a night march to the ranch of
Majo’i; Sam Hall, and I will give you your free-
doellnfio.”

“ Refuse and I will kill you.”

“ I wou (1 rather die than do an act so
mean.” ’

“ You refuse my offer then!"

“ rtainly I do.”

“Then you shall die.”

Charlie merely tossed his long hair back defl-
antl , and made no reply.

“ will not have you shot to-ni lit, but at
sunrise on shall end your days, for will 1fiive

ou until that time to decide whether it w he
ite or death for you.”

“ It will be death, if on are me only on the 1
terms you ofler, senor, ’sai Charlie sadly.

“ Come, Juan, there is no longer need of talk
with the obstinate boy, so take him to the lock-

u .

p“ He knows my terms, and he’ll die to-

morrogv unless he agrees to guide me to Hall’s
cam .
“ gee, senor,” answered the man Juan to his
angry chief, and he led Charlie up the canyon
to where a cabin of heavy logs was built against
the rocky wall.

 

 

 

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

A massive door was in one end, and it was !
fastened securely on the outside with a heavy
chain and padlock. ‘ I

Into this place Charlie was rudely shoved by I
Juan, his hands tied behind him, and the door r
closed upon him. -

But a faint light penetrated the cabin, show-
ing him a. bearskin on the floor to serve as a
bed. and not another article of any kind visible
in the dreary prison. ,

Seating himself upon this, Charlie began to l
meditate drearin upon his unfortuunto position,
and it was no wonder that hope fled from his ‘
brave young heart. I

But after awhile he regained his nerve, and
began to look about him for some means of es-

i

cs 9. ,

JIJ‘he glances he cast around him showed him I
how fruitless would be an attempt to get out oi?
that cage, for such it really was. i

The four walls were of logs, a foot in diame-
ter the ends cut so as to closely fit together, ‘
an overhead and underfoot were the some, the
only opening being the door of heavy hewn
timber and the only light and air coming
through the cracks here and there visible.

Charlie had seen the stout chain and padlock
without that held the door, and he concluded
that had he an ax even to work with, it would
take him hours to cut a hole through those tim-
bers large enough for him to crawl through.

“ They do not keep a guard outside, and no
wonder, for none is needed,” he said despoud-
in 1y, as hope again fled from him.

so ing through a crack he saw the outlaws
going ither and thither, and their rude laugh-
ter and jests reached his ears.

At length the shadows of night began to fall,
and soon all was darkness in the prison except-
ing where here and there a ray of light from
the camp-fires pierced a crevice.

“ Well, this a dismal: but I expect I’ll spend
to-morrow night in closer and cooler quarters
than thisa” muttered the poor boy, and he threw 
himself own upon the bearskin almost over- i
come with emotion, while he murmured:

“Oh. what will they say at home when they
know I am never coming back?

“ Oh, how I wish I could let brave Major i
Hall and his Ran ers know how they kill me!
How well would I avengedl”

And as thou 11 this thought was consoling,
Charlie gradual y sunk to sleep.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A woman Visrroa.

' Cumin certainly slept sound, notwithstand- ‘
lnghis expecting to die on the morrow. for it
' took 3 upon his shoulder to awaken him.
t and where am I?” he asked, be- ,
wildered in the darkness and by his dreams. 4
“ ’Shl” said a. voice cautiously. _ J
“ Is that on, Hickory?” he asked again for-
getting the the old scout was dead.
But the name recalled the fact, and its subso
nent happenings, and he put out his hand and
gait form near his own.
“ ho are you?" he asked.
“A triend. was the low whispered response. ,

 

“ I need a friend, that is Certain, for I am in
hard luck; but who are you?”

‘t‘Do not speak now, for I heard voices with-
ou .

“ Let me see who they are.”

The mysterious visitor left his side and was
aliselnt for what seemed to Charlie a very long
W ll 8.

t Then he heard again, in the same low, soft
one:

“ They were some of the band coming in. and
they have gone on to their quarters, so now you
must go with me.”

“But where?”

“ You know the wav to vour home!"

“ When I reach the Rio Grande, yes."

“ But vou do not know the way to the river?”

“The Marauders blindfolded me in bringing
me here: but who are on?”

“ i said I was your riend.”

“ And you intend to help me escape?” eagerly
asked Charlie.

is Yes.”

“But how can you?”

“I have the key, as you must know by my
being in here."

“‘Your voice tells me that you are a wo-
man.”

“I am, unfortunately,” was the reply in a
bitter tone. ”

“ You are a captive here to the Marauders?”

“ No, I anti—but never mind who, or what I
am.
“ I know your peril: I saw you to-day, though
you did not see me, and I am determined that
you "shall not die, so I have com: to save

on.

“ And you can?”

“ Yes.’

“ Oh! I do thank you ever so much: but thanks
are a poor return for saving a life."

“ They are all I care for: but now throw
this disguise over ,you and come with me.”

“ It is a woman s dress.” said Charlie, taking
the garment handed to him.

“ Yes, and here is a veil: now come.”

Charlie got into the dress with more haste
than grace. and his mysterious midnight visitor
fastened the heavy vail about him so that few
would have believed him other than a young

girl. .
Then she led him to the door, they passed out
and his feminine rescuer and guide turned and .

locked it securely.

Keeping close in the shadow of the side of the
canyon the two passed in the rear of the tepees
before several of which were flickering camp-
fires, and were soon free of the camp.

Then down a rugged and steep pathway, she
led the way until they reached the plain upon

‘ which were feeding the horses and cattle before

referred to. .

A clear cell from the woman, thrice repeated,
brought a horse trotting to her side, and catch-
ing him she said in the same gentle tones that
seemed natural to her: '

“ Well, my good Hidalgo we part to-nlght.
for I am going to give you to this brave youth,
and you must hear him safely and swiftly to his

cum.

Then turning to Charlie she continued:

 

  

 

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

"This animal ‘3 59 3W1“ 3' an “M5910 '3 and I Pass, for there will Don Keno and his ‘men he

has the endurance 0f 5 bronco: 80 be W“ carry  to attack it, for well he knows its value.

you in safety.

“ Here are the saddles of the outlaws hanging l

“You can do with this treacherous guide,
Rito, what you like; but you must find some

in these mesguite trees, and you can select the ‘ way of warning Don Keno at; the Pass, that

best, which 8 Don Keno’s, and you will find a

pair of revolvers in the holsters—see!" and j
catching hold of a handsome Mexican saddle [

the fellow’s treachery is discovered and that he
must fly. ”
“ But why can I not let a ,party of Rangers

that hung before her, she showed Charlie a pair 1 capture the Don and his men:

of revolver-butts protruding from their leather
holsters

The delighted be lost no time in bridling and *

saddling t e ver no animal which the woman
had selected for im, and then his strange guide
led him, by a path through the mesquites, to a
rid e seamed with canyons.

t the entrance to one of these she paused
and took down seVeral heavy saplings serving as
bars and then said:

“This way there are no guards; but at the
other passes there are.

The path through this canyon will lead you
to the valley beyond, and the horse will go di-
rect to the nearest ford of the Rio Grande, if
you will give him his rein, for he was brought

om Texas, and seems anxious always to go
back there.

“ Now I have set you free, and I wish to do
one other good deed this night, and you must
help me.”

‘ I will gladly do all that I can for you,” said
Charlie, earnes ly.

“ You know something of the emigrant trails
that lead toward the cattle country your people
are settling‘upi”

“ Yes, I now the trails well.”

“There is a train now coming toward the
Rio Grande, and it is yet several days’ 'ourne
from here and coming by the Bancroft nch. -

“ I know the ranch.”

“There is some wild country a few miles this
aid? is there not?”

“ In the hills is a canyon known as Dead
Man’s Pass. I believe?"

“ Yes, I know it for I have been through
there With Old Hic cry."

“ What, Old Hickory, the Ranger Scouti”

“ Yes, senorita.”
“ I am senora, not senorita ” said the woman,
Iadl and then she continued:

:: here, is Old Hickory now?”

, “Dead?” and the woman spoke in a tone of
quick surprise.

“Yes, senOra."

“ When did he diei Tell me all.”

In a few words Charlie told of the death of his
friend, and then the woman said quickly:

“ Do you mean that you are not guilty of kill-
ing the man Pedro?”

‘I never saw him, lady, and Old Hickory
was in the grave, as I told on.”

“ This isa ame of J uan's o deceive Don Keno,
and I will We in eye on him; but now let
me tell you that I Wish you to head oil! the train
Ispoke of at the Bancroft Ranch, and find it
there is a guide with it by the name of Rito.

_“If so. you denounce that man as a traitor
. and a Mexican Marauder, who is leading the
train into an ambuscade in the Dead Man’s

i

 

“ No, that must not be, and you must pledge
me your word that you will not let him be en-
trap ed.”

H ut I__”

“ I will hear no argument, boy.

“ I have saved your life, and I now tell-you
how you can save a valuable train from being
sacked and man lives, and in return I ask you
not to let Don e‘Vo he caught unnwares.

“At another time you may take him with
your Ran ers, it you can, but not now, not now.

“ Also, will tell you that I wish you to give
me your name and tell me where you can he
found, and Iwill put you in a way of saving
many lives and doing much good.”

“ My name is Charlie Bigelow and I am
often at the Rangers’ Camp on Hall’s Ranch,
when I am not at home or on the prairies.”

“Well, Senor Charlie, I will not torget to
let you hear from me.

“ Now, will you do as I ask?”

“Yes, senora, and I’ll trust to luck to catch
Don Keno another time.”

“ You may do so; but good-by, and may
your life be pros erous.”

“ But how am to know you, senora, for I do
not know your name and it is too dark for me
to see your face well.” '

“You may call me Rita, and when you re
ceive a letter so signed vou may know that you
can trust me fully in what I tel you."

“ And the name of the guide is Rita?”

“ Yes‘ but you must be off, for I shall have to
hasten ack, as it would not do for me to be
discovered aiding you. Good-hyl”

She held forth her hand, and grasping it
Charlie said warmly: '

“ I will never forget you, Senora Rita.”

Then he leaped into the saddle and rode away.
giving the horse the rein as the mysterious
woman had directed him to do.

v

 

CHAPTER. IX.
a nor’s WARNING.

AN emigrant train had gone into a “dry
camp” upon the rairie before the hour of sun-
set, although a ew miles ahead were visible
trees that surely marked the line of astream.

But the guide had said that they must camp
there, so as to strike encampments upon the
following nights of their journey when the
would have to march certain distances one
day to reach a halting-place.

‘here were grumblers, of course, but the
guide know, and he must be obeyed, for those
of the train were strangers in a strange land.

The train consisted of some twenty Wagons
and twice as many human beings, with horses,
cattle and all that went toward enacting a new
home in the wilderness.

There were brave men. women and children.

 

 

 

 

.. . -_ «W...» *nflnwm

 

 

 

“wanww . ,“

 

., ism—up.-.”

i
E.

 

 

 

 

\

Texan Charlie, the Boy Ranger. 11

 

and, whatever the motives that tempted them
to seek new homes in the Lone tar State, they
all seemed happy at the prospect, and glad that
their long journey was near its ending.

It was this train encnmped upon the prairie,
that Charlie spied as be came riding leisurely
along the trail which it was to go.

It was the day followin the night upon
which he had been so mysteriously aided to es-
cape by the woman who called herself Rita,
and his horse showed that he had pushed on
hard, to place as far a space as pOssible between
him and any pnrsners that might follow upon
discovering his flight.

But his horse was a fine one, and had fully
sustained the words of the woman that he was
as fleet as an antelope and had the endurance of
a bronco.

Charlie found Hidalgo to he a blood bay, long
tnil, slender-limbed and willing to go all the
time.

He had unfailingly taken him by the trail,
to the river, and once there Charlie knew the
we and pressed on until he saw the train.

‘ That must be the train, but it has passed on
faster than that strange woman supposed, to be
here instead of at Bancroft’s Ranch.

But why has the guide gone into a dry
ca mp there, when there is plenty of water near,
and Charlie continued to wonder as he rode on.

Those in the train soon discovered his ap-
proach, and as to meet a person on the prairies
then was something like a vessel meeting an-
other at sea, all stood gazing at him as he rode
u l.

x“ Why, he’s a boy i"

“But a plucky one, I’ll bet!"

“ He’s well-mounted 1”

“Look at his saddle!”

“And his bridle, tool”

“ Th y are perfectly splendid l”

“ Worth a small fortune in the silver mount-
ing Won them I”

“ ell, he’s a game One of his years tobe
alone upon the prairiel”

Such were the comments of different ones as
Charlie rode up and drew rein near the crowd,
somewhat taken aback by the excitement he
created in the camp. ‘

“ I know that horse, saddle and bridle,” cried
a man with a dark, Mexican—looking face, step-
pin forward. .

ng was dressed in buckskin, even to his moc-
casins. were a broad slouch hat pulled down
over his forehead, and wore a belt of arms,
While at his back was slung a rifle.

“ Boy, where did you get that horse and out-
fit?" he asked, in an angry tone, speaking with

a slight foreign accent.

“ That is none of your business, sir,” was the
cool repl of Charlie, and the tram people
wondere to see a man so formidable as their
com anion addressed so by a boy.

“ ’11 make it my busmess to know pretty
qllllick, for you have stolen them,” angrily said
t a men

“ You. liel” and with a flash—like movement
Charlie covered the buckskin-clad personage

I with his revolver.

“Ohol but ou are a quick one with tongue
and hand. and have got we covered I admit:

 

but I tell you, friends, I know that horse, saddle"
and bridle,” cried the man.

“Where did you know them?" and Charlie
looked the man straight in the face.

“They belong to an officer at the fort that I
know.”

“ And again I say that you lie; but I did not
come here to discuss my horse. but to know if
there is a guide in this train by the name 0!!
Ritoi” and Charlie still covered the man with
his revolver.

"My name is Rita, and now I think I know
why you have that horse.

“ Come, boy pard, I guess you have a message
for me from the fort,” and the man assumed a
conciliatory tone.

But Charlie answered, firmly:

“No, I have a message for these people,” and
he looked over the crowd, for all in the train
had now gathered about him. ‘

“And what message have you for us, my fine

oung fellow?” asked the boss of the train, a
huge, heavily-bearded man, and he stepped close
up to the boy. .

“That man is your guide?”

“ Yes, he is.”

“ He says that his name is Ritol”

“ By that name we know him.”

“Well, sir, I wish to tell you that he is a
treacherous guide: that he is a member of the
outlaw band known as the Mexican Marauders,
and is leading you into an ambush.”

The words were spoken in a voice that reach-
ed every ear, and all stood spellbound at the
bold charge.

They had not liked the guide, they had rather
feared him, for he had a hot-headed, overbear-
ing way, and made all feel his importance, and
that he was a dangerous man to deal with.

t But no one had supposed that he was a trai-
or.

And now a mere boy came boldly forward
and accused him of a heinous crime.

As for the guide, he was at first wholly taken
aback by the bold words; but he dared. not
move, for Charlie still held him covered with
his revolver.

But he laughed sneeringly and said:

“ Boy, you urea fool to come on this trail
and make such a charge against Rita the
Guide."

“ I made a charge that is true. for to—morrow
night he would have had you camp where you
would all have been massacred.”

“ Boy, you shall rue this,” and the man fairly
writhed with anger.

“I shall kill you if you attempt to raise your
hands to a weapon,” was Charlie’s cool reply,
and Rito seemed to feel that this was no d e
threat, for he stood motionless, while the train
boss said:

“ Young sir, this is a. terrible charge you
make, against a man that we have found faith-
ful to within two days of our journey’s end.”

i“ He makes it because I said that I knew that
horse, saddle and bridle, and that he stole
them,” said Rito.

This looked plausible, and Charlie’s quick eye I

saw that many began to feel that his accusation
of treachery against the guide was out 0t :0-
vonge for being called a thief.

 

 
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
    
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
 
  
 
  
  
   
   
   
  
    
    
   
   
 
 
    
     

 

       
     
       

 

12 Tons Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

" I repeat it, sir, the man is dealing wrongly ’

with ou.’

“ ow do you know this?”

“ I cannot tell you, but he is treacherous,"
persisted Charlie.

“ Do you mean that you cannot tell, or will
not f"

“ I will not tell howl know it.”

“ Ab! and yet you say he is a traitor?”

“ He is.”

“ You must give us more proof, or we will be
tempted to believe that you came by our horse
as Rito says, and hold you instead of im to ac-
count."

Charlie’s face flushed at the words of the train
boss, and he said hotly:

“ Hold me if you wish, but only hold him
too, and seek a safe camp, while you send some
one for the Texas Rangers who have their camp
forty miles from here."

“ And then?”

“The will know me, and upon my word
the Will hang that guide,” was the ringing
rep y and the dark face of Rito turned livid at
the words.

“ We will hold you prisoner and keep an eye
on the guide,” and the train-boss stepped to-
ward Charlie, passing directly in front of
Rito as he did so.

Instantly the guide took advantage of being
thus shielded to draw his revolver and pull trig-
ger, while he shouted:

“I’ll save trouble by killing you, youngsteri"

The bullet just grazed Charlie‘s forehead and
almost instantly, ri ht over the head of the
train-boss, was fired is answering shot and the
revolver dropped from the shattered arm of the
guide. from whose lips came the cry:

“ Kill him, for he as broken my arm 1”

But Charlie had already wheeled his horse, as
his finger touched trigger and dashed away
at full speed, keeping several wagons between
him and the crowd.

There were a few impulsive ones who fired
upon the flying boy, but their shots were harm-
less and Charlie was soon out of range.

Straight back upon the trail he had come
went Charlie; and that night went into a lonely
cam in the hills near the canyon known as
De Man’s Pass.

 

CHAPTER X.
AGAIN IN ran roms.

CHARLIE really enjoyed his solitary camp in I

the hills, after his days of fatigue and exoite-
ment, and had a long night’s rest, while he felt
contented to know that Hidalgo was also in
clover, so to speak, with plenty of grass and
cool water.

He ate his breakfast with real relish, broiling
a bird upon the coals, and then saddled Hidalgo
go attend to the very unpleasant duty before

1m.

But he had promised the mysterious woman
who had saved his life that he would warn the
Mexican Marauders that their plan was known
and that they must fly before the Texan Rangers
in full force would be upon them.

He had seen that he had not killed Bite the
Guide, but did not fear but that he was bad

i

 

enough wounded to force him to remain in
camp, and if he could get away from the
Marauders, as soon as he had warned them,
Charlie determined to ride with all haste to the
Rangers’ camp and have Major Hall come on

. after the train, guide it to its destination, and

ca ture the treacherous Rite.

ut first Charlie had the very un leasant
duty to erform of again placing himse f in the
power of the Marauders, to warn them of their
danger; but he hoped under the circumstances,
that they would not hold him a prisoner, and
the woman had exacted of him the promise,
come what might.

Mounting his horse Charlie rode with consid-
erable dread, mingled with hope, to the canyon
where the woman had told him the Marauders
would encamp, and he came suddenly upon
them ust as they had arrived and were dis-
mountmg from their horses.

A shout greeted him, and Juan called out in a
loud tone:

“ Senor chief, here is the boy now."

In an instant Charlie was surrounded by the
bond of Mexican Marauders, some two-score in
number, and the chief confronted him with
angr eyes, while he said with a sneer:

“ ell, boy, you escaped death then, but you
will not escape now, for you have ridden right
into our arms.”

“I came here on purpose, as I knew on
would be here to—day to camp,” was Char ie’s
cool reply, and it surprised the bandits.

“You say that you expected to find us
here?”

“Yes, chief.”

“How is thatl”

“ i knew that you were to arrive ln the Dead
Man’s Pass to-day, to lie in wait for an emigrant
train that was to camp there to-night, and i
came here to meet you.’

“Well, what story is this you are telling me?”
said Don Keno, amazed that Charlie should
know of his intention to attack the train.

“It is no story, for 1 came to warn you of
danger.”

:: War)? us of danger?”
5.

“Come, boy, this won’t pass with us.”

“Do ou know a man named Ritol”

The c ief started and said quickly:

“Yes, what know you of him?”

“He is a member of your band, is be not!"

H Yes.”

“You planned with him to be the guide of a
rich emigrant-train and to come by certain
stages each day so as to hit this canyon for an
encampment to-night, or soon after.’

“Who told you this?" asked the amazed
chief, while all now gazed in wonder upon the

y.

“It matters not who told me, but I know it
to be a fact, and that your guide was discovered
in his treachery, was wounded, and now lies in
the camp of the emigrants, while Sam Hall
and his Rangers are now preparing to come
upon our trail.”

“ al this is startling news.”

“ You will find it so when Major Hall reach“
here,” coolly said Charlie.

“ But how know you this, boy!”

  

     

 

. wt.» as“..-

——n
. , "Tr

 

 

 

 

 

 

Texas Charlie. the Boy Ranger.

 

“Ileft the train in camp last evening, and
aw happen then what I have told on.”

“ And ’you came here to warn us ’

H Yes)

“ Why?”

“I Will not give my reason, but it certainl
was not from any love of you as you may we
believe."

“ And yet you have a reason?”

“I have."

“ But refuse to give iti”

H I do. i,

“ How do I know that you are telling the

“ Just wait herea few hours until the Ran-

rscome."

“ Are they in full force?"

“They will be in force enough to wipe
gut DJm Keno and his band if they catch him

ere.

“Bo , on are an enigma, for only two
nights zyigoyI sentenced you to death.

‘In some mysterious way ou escaped from

me and I did double duty a following your
trail and coming here, as you say, to head of! a

n.

“Now on coolly ride into cam on my
horse, anti, tell me of a plan that .did not
believe my men knew that I had With Rito,
and warn me of danger.

“ I do not know what to do.”

“ Send out a scout to find if I have not told
you the truth.”

" I believe you have done so; but what to do
with you I hardly know.”

“ Let me go of course.” ,

, “ No, no ou are one I must know more of.”

“You wil surely not hold me prisoner when
I willingly came into your power again to
warn you of danger?”

“You may go upon one condition.”

“Name it, senor.”

“ That you tell me who aided your escape
from that cabin-jail of mine."

“ Why do on think any one aided me!”

“ Because have had des rate men in there,
and not one of them coul ever escape, while
you a little boy, got out.”

“l’erhaps I squeezed through the cracks as I
am only a little boy,” said Charlie innocently.

“No, you were let out in some way, and by
one who holds another key than mine to the
padlocks that hold the door."

Charlie said nothing and the chief continued:

“ Now tell me who et you out, and you shall

0 free at once.”

“ I will not tell you."

“ Then, by Heaven. back_to my haunt you go
with me, boy, and I’ll wring the truth from
you, and you shall die With the traitor.

“ Come men, mount your horses and back to
the Rio Grands, for my secret is known, and

 

CHAPTER XI.
an OUTLAW EXECUTION.

ONCE again Charlie fuuild himself riding into
the camp of the Mexican Marauders, a prisoner.

He glanced about for the woman who had
served him so well upon the former occasion,
but could not see her anywhere.

The outlaws did not blind him as before,
which gave the youth the idea that they did not
intend that he should escape.

Straight to the same cage—like cabin he went
and was thrust within by Juan, who also tied
his arms behind his back to add to his security.

There Juan stood awhile until the chief, who
had stopped at his quarters, came with a couple
of padlocks and he s, which he hastily placed
upon the staples wit the remark:

“Now, young senor, let me see you get out
this time i"

The keys were then Bocketed by the chief,
who walked away, and hurlie was alone once
more, with night coming on to add to the
gloomy thoughts that swept over him.

The night passed drearin away, with snatches
of sleep for the be prisoner, and when the
morning came the on Keno himself sent him
his breakfast by a peon woman with the hope
that he would enjoy it, as he should witness an
execution in a short while.

Charlie at first thought when he saw the we
man that he was the one who had befriended

him, but a second glance was sufficient to as-,

sure him that the peon and the one who had
rescued him were by no means the same person.

The voice of his rescuer had been soft and
musical, and her face and form, as well as he
could distinguish in the darkness, were beautiful
and gracefu .

The peon was a trim figure and youthful, and
her voice was not unpleasant; ut she was,
Charlie was sure, ver diflerent from the other.

He wished to ask a cut that other, yet dared
not do so for fear of compromising her.

In fact, during the hi ht he had hoped for a
visit from her, and shot or rescue, but alasl she
came not as before. ‘

“ Who is to beexecutedi” he asked the woman
in Spanish, when she had set his breakfast upon
the floor and delivered the message from the

Don.

“That the chief will tell the young senor,”
was the reply of the woman, and she turned
and left the cabin, locking the door securely be-
hind her.

Hardly had she done so, when she reopened
the door, and looking in again said in a low

tone:
fié‘tIt’et the young senor break the bread in two

There was something in the manner of the
woman that caused Charlie to feel that she had

this boy tells the truth when he says that. Sam 8 meaning in her words that he must not die-

Eell and his Bangers will soon be upon us.

“Juan, tie that boy to his horse and let us be
y, but his heart sunk paper I} it.

Charlie made no

within himtofeel that e was once egainin the
tdllofthellexbanumud

——

,

«

,Wv

. I -  .
. . ._..at.—»-.. A -na.-.‘_vm._a....(v ~.-.-.,,,...,L a.-. . .7

re rd.
he took up the piece of bread and broke it
in half and instantly saw a slip of closely folded
Openm this he read what was thereon writ-

lows:

ltenina eminine hand, and which wasufol-

      
 

w' 

' 4a...-aa.»a.. ,‘ an.

    
   
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
   
   
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
    
      
       
        
 
   
  
  

 

 

 

am

Texas Charlie. the Boy Ranger.

 

“A scout has verified your words that Kim was
discovered in his treacher , and the Rangers were on
the trail of the band so e wishes not to kill you
openly, as the men think you should be set free for
warning them.

" This the chief will not risk, so he intends to poison

our food to-day at dinner so beware and do not eat
t, though 've to your plate the appearance that
you have one so, and in some way hide it in the

whin.
“Shortly after when the con woman comes to
your cabin, she will tell you ust what to do."

There was no signature to this, but Charlie
knew well who had written it, and hope welled
up in his heart once more to feel that he was
not forgotten by the one who had so befriended
him before.

The note took away his appetite for the break-
fast before him, as he feared that might be
poisoned too; so he did not eat it, but laid some
of the food in one corner under the bearskin.

Shortly after the door opened and the chief

3%de 1n.

‘ ell, boy, I want you to see how I treat the
traitor who aided you to escape,” he said,
sternly.

At his words Charlie turned very pale, for
he felt that the noble woman had been dis-
covered.

“ Come, you must go with me,” said the
chief, and he led Charlie outside of the cabin.

There, in an 0 on space, the men were drawn
up in a line, whi 9 one stood apart, his feet and
hands securely bound.

“ Now, youn man, that is the man who aided
mu to escape, ’ and the chief pointed to the

und man, who was as pale as death, and gazed
appealingly toward Charlie.

“ He is not the man, sir,” said Charlie, firmly,

’ and the face of the man brightened with hope.

l

 

“Your denial will not save him, for in his

pocket was found a key that fitted the lock upon

that cabin, andI have long suspected that he

was not true to us.”

“ Still, senor, that man did not aid me, I as-

su on.

“ IIe shall die for the act, at any rate.”

“ You surely will not kill him when I say he
is innocent.”

“ I, will, unless you tell me who is the guilty

one.

“That I will not.”

“ Then he must die.”

“0h, senor, tell who it was or he will kill
me,” cried the doomed man in an agony of
dread. ‘

Charlie was in a terrible position, for he did
not wish to see the man shot down for a crime
of which he was innocent.

He could not inform upon the woman, and he
knew not what to do.

Just as he stood in a quandary there rode up

_ to the side of the chief a woman.
It was the one who had saved him, and told 1

him to call her Bite.

The face of the boy brightened, for she would
surely not let the man die, and he gazed ear-
nestlly at her beautiful face, expecting her to
span . ~

She was superny mounted, and sat in her
saddle like a. perfect horsewoman, while her
term was elegant. and her face very lovely.

2‘

 

. “Q
r gram _ I '\

She wore a close-fitting habit, with short
skirt, and about her slender waist was a belt of
arms, while she had the appearance of one who
would and could use them.

l She drew rein when near the young prisoner,
glanced at him with no sign of recognition, then
at her eyes rest upon the accused man, and

smiled as the chief addressed her in a pleasant .

1 tone.

I “ 0h, senoral do not let me die, for the boy
, has told the chief that I am not guilty of aiding
him to escape l” cried the man in piteous tones.

“Who does the boy say is guilty?” and the
woman turned calmly to the chief, who am
swered:

“ He will not tell me, yet says yonder fellow
is not the one.”

The woman made no reply, and the chief again
turned to Charlie:

“ You refuse to tell who aided you?”

“ I do.”

“ Remember, I accuse that man, and he shall
die for the crime.”
hf‘ I”cannot help it, thougb'I am very sorry for
1m. ,

“ His life will be upon your head.”

“I would have the life of the real one upon
my conscience, did I tell,” calmly responded
Charlie.

The chief made no reply, but drawing his re-
volver, stepped out before the bound man and
about ten paces from him.

“ Mercy, Don Keno, mercy i” cried the man
itiful tones.
ut Don Keno smiled grimly without reply,
while the poor wretch dropped upon his knees
and began to mutter a prayer.

“Now, young TexanI tell the secret I demand
of you, or I will kill that man for the crime of
which you say he is gniltless,” cried Don Keno.

“ That man is not guilty, but I refuse to tell
who is,” was Charlie’s firm reply.

Instantly the revolver begun to rattle, and
the poor wretch sunk in a heap with half a
dozen bullets in his body.

in

 

CHAPTER XII.
cam “ PLAYS ’rossmu.”

BACK to his wooden cage went poor Charlie,
shocked'greatly by the tragedy just enacted
before him, and which he dared not prevent by
betraying the real rescuer, for fear a raster
one would have taken place, fothe id not
doubt but that the merciless chief would slay
the woman too.

N_ervo_usly be paced to and fro in the little
cabin, his arms tied behind him, and his face
pale with his pent up emotions.

At last there came a clanking of the chains
that held the door, and once more the peon
woman entered, bearing a tray with his dinner.

“The chief has Sent the young scout some
food,” she said quietly, as she set the tray down
upon the bearskm.

As she rose to an upright position, she guickly
‘ freed his arms of the thongs that boun them,
and at the same time slipped into his hand a
piece of paper.

Taking up the breakfast tray, she left the
.oabin and Charlie quickly glanced over his

 

 

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. .i...«......uw g

'4
TS"
it n
‘1

 

 

 

 

   

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“new we
-  mafirwvum "

   
 
   
  
 
  
 
   
   
 
   
  

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

15

 

note. standing near a crack in between the
walls that gave him good light.

It read:

" Do not touch one morsel of the food sent you,
for it has all been poisoned by the chief.

“Hide sufficient to give an idea that you have
eaten heartil , and soon after lie down upon your
face and pre nd to be dead.

“The peon will return for the dishes, report that
‘vlou are dead, and the chief being absent, I will send

er to wrap a blanket about you and sew it up well,
our mode of burial here.

“A hole will be left in the blanket for you to
breathe through. and at dark I will order two of the
band to take you of! and bury you in the graveyard
on the hillside.

“When the place you by the open grave, on
will find that hey will not remain there to comp ete
their work, and you must not be alarmed at an -
thing that transpires, for no harm will befall you.’

This note, like the other, bore no signature,
and Charlie chewed it up by iecemeal so as
not to leave any evidence against the woman
should anything occur to thwart her plan to
rescue him.

“It’s a. better dinner than that one if it is
paper, and that in the tray does look tempt-
ing,” said the hungry boy, as he prepared the
dishes to look as though he had eaten from
them, and hid his allowance under the bear-
skin with the untested breakfast.

It was late in the afternoon before the peon
woman had brought his dinner, so that the
shadows were lengthenin from the west, when
he followed the advice given him in the letter,
and “ layed ’possum.”

Not Yong after the chains again rattled and
the door opened.

The tfreon woman entered, and then with a
startle cry ran out.

Soon after she returned with others, and
Charlie felt a light touch upon his head, and
than upon his pulse, while the voice of the
woman who had before rescued him said softly:

“Yes, he is dead. Go, Nuns, and get a blen-
ket to prepare the body for burial, and you,
tillage; get a companion and dig a grave for
t e . -

“Thin come and let me know and I will go
with you to the graveyar .”

The man Mendez left the cabin with the
woman, and soon after Nuna the peon entered.

Singin a doleful song she rolled Charlie up
in a b an at, and began to sew up the ends very
carefully.

It ‘ was a strange e erience for the boy, and
though a hole was le t just under his nostrils
for him to breathe throu h, he could not but

' shudder at the thought 0 feeling that he was

being repared for burial while yet alive.
At East the work of the woman was com-
leted and Charlie was alone, unable to move,
he ever so hard.
as r and deeper grew the shadows until
twilig teams, and then the door swung back,
and a man entered.
Charlie could not of course see him, or know
what he was doing; but he heard him mutter:
“I don’t like this burying bodies by night,
and we would have had the boy planted lon
ago if the senora hadn’t some up there an
ma 9 us «Bathe grave so deep—well, Mendez,
are you re 1” 1.

 

. r. -
.,».,.,.,.., 4

“Yes,” said another voice, “ I went up to tell
the senora, but Nuna says she has gone riding,
and left word for us to bury the boy, so let us
hurry up, for night is upon us.”

Quickly Charlie felt himself seized in the
strong arms of the outlaws and borne out of the
cabin, While, as they passed along and met any
of the band a word or two would pass as to the
cause of the boy’s sudden death.

“ He was doubtless scared to death, though he
seemed to have plenty of nerve " said Mendez,
as he turned into the trail lea gup the hill-
side to the graveyard.

The shadows deepened as they entered the
timber, and the men uickened their pace as
though anxious to get t eir ghastly work over.

At last the grave was reached, and Charlie
was tumbled dowp upon the loose earth in no
li ht manner.

I: was an appalling moment for him, for
what if the one who was to save him came not
at once, then he would be dro ped into the grave
and the earth hurled in rapi ly upon him.

He felt like giving utterance to one long, lead
cry, hoping to frighten away the two men; but
then he remembered that he was powerless to
move so controlled the impulse.

Bu denly there broke from the lips of one of
the men:

“ Holyr Virgin! save, oh save usl”

A ({e 1 came from the other, and Charlie
hear them bound away like race-horses.

Before he had time for thought he felt a hand
upon him, and heard the words:

“They have gone off like deer, but Imust
work quickly.”

It was the voice of the m sterious woman,
and with wonderful rapidity s e freed the half-
smothered boy from his close quarters.

In spite of himself Charlie started at behold-
ing a white-robed form bending over him that
looléedtstrangely like what the superstitious call
a as .

5‘ I played ghost to frighten them and
have done so, though I put you to a terrible
ordeal, mly poor boy. ‘

“But dared not release you the nightbe- -
fore, as the Don would have found me out.

“ Now, here is your horse, the same one,
Hidalgo, the Don’s saddle and bridle, and I
managed to steal for you your own arms, so
mount and away at once.

“Follow the same trail as you did before, and
remember that you shall hear from me again.”

Charlie began a delu e of thanks but the
woman place her hand ightly over his mouth
and said quickly: '

“Come, you have no time to talk, for you
must be off, as those frightened fellows will
barns: the whole band up here to search for the
g as .

Thus urged Charlie sprung into the saddle,
grasped the woman’s hand and rode 03, while
she glided away through the timber, looking
indeed strangely like a ghost.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
m MEETING AT rim Rm
knew his horse from his other trip

_, a
'3‘"

Oman:
_ upon him. and armed with his rifle once more

 

    

16 Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

and splendidly mounted, he felt as though he
had nothing to fear from outlaw or Indian.

The horse seemed, as the woman Rita had
said, anxious to go back to Texas, and at a good
pace held on his way toward the Rio Grande,
following the trail unerringly through the dark-

ness.
At last the ford was reached, and Charlie
drew rein for a rest before crossing, and be-

cause he wished to reconnoitor on foot ore he i

went over, as he was very likely to run upon
some one encamped there that it would be bet-
ter for him to avoid.

Hitching Hidalgo in a secluded spot, he went
on foot down to the ford ani carefully surveyed
the other shore as well as he could through the
darkness.

At last a brightening of the eastern skies told
him that the moon was rising, and he kept his
position, confident that it would light up the
other shore sufficiently for him to see any object
moving there.

He had not long 'to wait before he saw a form
come out of the shadow of the overhanging
banks and stand peering toward the shore
where he was.

After a short inspection the man returned to
the shadow.

“ It’s good I didn’t attempt to go across,”
chuckled Charlie, glad at his escape, and he
continued his watching and soon after beheld a.
horseman ride into view.

It was evidently the same man that he had

fore seen on foot, and who had been recon-
noitering, and, apparentlysatisiicd, was coming
across the river.

“ Illl bag him,” muttered Charlie and he
hastily ran back to where be 11 Id loft hillnlgo.

One of the necessary attachmwnis to a Mexi-
can’s fully equipped saddle is a. lasso, and there
was one among the chief’s equipments which
Senor Rita had presented Charlie with.

When he returned to his point of observation
he had this lasso in his hand, and coiling it
ready to throw, he crouched down upon the
bank in the shelter of a mesquite bush.

The horseman was now nearly across the
river, and must pass under the bank within a.
few feet of the boy.

He was advancing slowly and cautiously, as
though ready for any danger, and evidently ex-
peicted that he might meet a foe on the other
51 e.

Nearer and nearer he came, and at last reach-
ed the shore and turned into the trail leading up
to the hights.

As he came out on the bank his eyes turned
upon the mesquite bush, as though he realized
what a good place of ambush it would be, and
perhaps recalled that it had been used for such
purpose in his own recollection.

But Charlie did not move, and the horseman
rode by, while from the lips of the boy came
the whisper:

“ It is Juan the Marauder l”

 

He had not, however, the fortune to get out
of range without a surprise, for Charlie, who l
was an adept at lariat throwing, lanched the
coil with strong arm and skillful hand, and with ,

side, while his horse, bounding forward,

1 dragged him heavily to the ground.

Leaving the end of the lariat attached to the
mesquite bush, Charlie slid down by it to the
trail, and presented a revolver at the head of
the halfrstunned outlaw, while he said in his
light way:

“Juan, I want you.”

“ Curses! Is it you, you young devil?”

“ Correct! It is the boy you lied against and
sought to have shot, and he has got you in close
quéir’ters, and would just as soon kill you as
no .

“ How did you get out of that jail this time?”
asked the amazed outlaw, awed by Charlie’s
pistol and with his arms hold fast by the lariat,
which Charlie kept a firm hold on. -

“ Let me first wrap this rope around you and
take your belt of arms off, and I’ll tell you that
I got out by the aid of the one who helped me
before, so that you see your chief murdered
the wrong man as my rescuer."

“ What do you intend to do with me, boy?"

f‘ I have not decided, but you will know after
3. Jury of Rangers sit on your case."

“ Holy Virgin! do you intend to turn me
over to them?" cried the man in alarm.

“ I will if you behave yourself; but if ou

I do not I shall kill on; but, come, sit up an let
' me he you, for I on’t like this place much.”

The Mexican could do nothin else but obey,
and he was soon securely bound and disarmed.
“ Now there is your horse waiting for you, so
on will have a chance to ride,” and hoppling
is prisoner, Charlie went after the animal that
had stopped not far up the trail.
_ After some difficulty he caught him, and aid-
ing his prisoner to meant, he got Hidalgo, and
the two set 013‘; across the Rio Grande, Charlie
happ at his good luck, and Juan, the outlaw,
utter y wretched at his misfortune, and mum-
bling prayers and imprecations commingled as
he followed in the rear of his young captor.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
TURNING TRAITOB.

IN safety Charlie and his prisonerreached the

Texan shore, and the youth was anxious to
lace as great a distance as possible between
imself and pursuit.

He knew well his danger, over a hundred
miles as he was from where he wished to go,
and with a prisoner upon his hands, having to
pass through a country full of hostiles: but he
did not shrink from the work before him, and
set off at a gallop as soon as he reached good
ground.

In the mean time Juan had stopped his con-
tinued swearing and praying at his ill fortune,
and set to thinking.

His thoughts ran on a way to extricate him-
self from his difllculty, and at last he decided
upon a plan.

“ I say, young senor,” he called out in a re-
lpecti'ul tone.

“ What is it, Greaseri” med Charlie, without
looking around.

“You think you have got a prize, don’t

«dark the arms of Juan were pinioned to his 1 your!

    

 

 

 

 

n.3,



 

 

 

a. v»

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

1"

 

" Yes, one kind of a prize."
“ Don’t you wlsh to do better?”
“ I intend to, as soon as I reach the Ranger
cam .”
“ ow wouldn’t you rather have captured the
chief than me?" ,
“ You bet; but as 1 cannot get pudding I
take pie."
“ You can get pudding, as you call it.”
“ You don’t mean it.”
u I do",
“ Sure?”
bo“hY"es, but you can’t have pie and pudding
t .
“ Oh! vou mean you can tell me where I can
get Don nol”
‘ I‘ Yes.”
“ He is not at the stronghold?”
H No ll

“ Where is he?”

"We left the stronghold together.”

“ Where is he?”

“ I am not a‘ fool, senor.”

“ You wish to offer termsl”

“ I do.”

“Name them."

“You call me pie!”

“ Yes.”

“ And Don Keno pudding?”

“ Yes.”

“I’ll give you the pudding for the pie.”

“ You will put Don Keno into my grip it I
will let you got”

to Yes.”

“ I’ll think of it.”

“ etter think quick.”
it Why?”

“ Because you are going away from where
the Don is.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“ [t is."

“ Well, Senor Juan, a bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush, you know.”

“But on can get the other bird in hand it
you will et me go into the bush.”

Charlie was silent a moment, and then sud-
denly drew rein.

“ Come, let us understand each other,” he
said seriously. and in a tone that showed he had
made up his mind to act.

“What do you wish to knowi”

“ Is Don Keno near herel”

u He is."

“ On the Texas shorei”

H Yes.”

“ How far from here!”

“ A league.”

“ You are sure!”

“ I left him there an hour or so ago.”

“ Where is he!”

“ That is my secret."

“ Is he alone?’

“There are none of his men with him.”

“ How long will he remain?”

“Until my return."

it Explain.»

“ First let us understand each other.”

It Wen.”

“ It 1 tell you all, and aiVou to capture Don
Keno. you will not no (no

 

 

" Juan, listen to me and though I am not a
man, I mean all that sav.”

“ I am listening, senor.h

“You deserve anging."

The Mexican started.

“ You are a great villain, and you lied to
your chief about me, for you well know I never
saw the man you accused me of killing."

“ Go on, senor.”

“ You would have seen me shot for a crime of
which I was not guilty.”

“ You were nothing to me and I wan looking
out for myself.”

“ True, and my idea is that you had the de-
serter. discovered that he had pld and robbed
and killed him, and finding me I. you did, used
me as a tool to hide your deed.”

“ You’ve got a long head, boy."

“ Now I have no love for you.”

H No."

“ And I know you would cut my throat with
real delight did you get the chance.”

“ Ah, senor l”

“It is true, and so you see I shall not trust
you; but I will make terms with you.”

“ I am anxious to come to terms.”

“ Now you want me to spare your life!”

“ In return for the secret I will tell you.”

“ In return for your placing me in a way to
capture Don Keno?”

‘Yes, I will do it.”

“ Do so, and I will let you go free.”

“ You mean this by the Virgin?”

“I swear that I Will let you go free, if you
place Don Keno in my power.”

“ Good 1”

“ But understand me.”

“Well, senor?"

“You have a desire to become chief yourself,
of the Mexican Marauders.”

“Your head is broad as well as long, boy.”

“ Ne’ver mind the head, but that is your little
ame.

“What if it is?” ‘

“I intend to break on up on that.”

“ Bowl” and the exican looked alarmed.

“ I mean that I intend to break up the gang
of outlaws.”

“ You cannot.”

“ You are mistaken, for I can."

“ I would like to know how.”

“ I will tell you how I did it when the work
is done. ,

“ Now put Don Keno in my power and I will i
take you both to the Rangers as captives. ‘

“ Don Keno will be strung up, but you shall I"
be set free one week from the day you arrive in ‘
their camp.”

“ No, you cannot play that game on me.”

“ What game?”

“ They will hang me.”

“ I pledge you my word that they will not."

“ They will not mind you.”

“ They will.”

H No)

“They will, or I will refuse to lead them
against your stronghold.”

“ Ah! but will you do this!”

“ I will, and, after I have captured thoDon
through you. they must accept my terms with

v 2

 

 

 

38 Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

you and I will myself see that no one attempts
to harm cu.”

“ I believe you are 5 here, boy.”

“ I try to be, and in t is ‘case I promise you
that I will not tell them how the Marauders can
be taken if they do not guarantee my pledge to

ou.

“ They will force you.”

“ You and your chief tried the forcing busi-
ness on with me and found that it would not
work.”

“ That’s so.”

“ Do you trust me!"

“ I do not know what to do.”

“ Well, I do.”

“ What?”

“ Take you to the Rangers and have them
string you up.” '

“ I cry hands up boy, so I’ll do as you say.”

“ It’s a bargain t en ”

“ Yes, I turn traitor,” was the low reply.

I

 

CHAPTER XV.
m MARAUDER’S swear.

BOTH Charlie and his prisoner seemed relieved
after the compromise of a life for elite had been
made between them.

There is little doubt but that Juan was jealous
of his chief in more ways than one.

He wanted to be chief himself, and was also
in love with the Senora Rita; but his life was
dearerto him than ambition and love, and for
the present he was content to give up the two
for the one, but registered a silent vow that he
would not wholly give up striving to Will the

beautiful Mexican woman, once he was set free
by Charlie.

“ Where is Don Keno?” asked Charlie, as Juan
turned back toward the river.

“Do you see that dark object yonder?” and
Juan nodded toward where the horizon was
broken by a dark mass rising above it.

“ Yes.’

“ It is a hacienda."

“ Indeed!”

es, 9. Texan lives there who married a
Mexican wife, and he is seldom molested by our
peo le or yours on that account.”

“ hat is his name?”

“ We call him Don Henry and his wife the
. Donna Isabella.”

' “I have heard of him, for the Rangers have
fgeque’ntly stepped there and he is very kind to
t em.

“Yes, and he is just as kind to the Mexican
troops and more kind tothe Marauders.”

“ Ahl he is the friend of all who vis1t him?”

“ Just so; but he is Don Keno’s particular
friend, and the chief hopes to marry his daugh-
ter, the pretty Senorita Leone.”

‘ The Texan cannot certainly know who
he is?”

“ Oh, yes."

“ awnd would allow his daughter to marry that
man
“ fcourse, for they are pards, you see.”
as: Desires We M.

y, ec e an on enryare
3 Eco see Iamight as well tell you all."
1' e

 

V “and.

“ Well, Don Henry plays fast and loose, and
any little game of value he brings into the
hand of the chief he has a share in it.”

“ Do you mean that Don Henry is a spy for
the chief?”

5‘ Yes- 7’ ‘

“ I see; but does the Senorita Leone know
this?”

“ Ch no, for she looks upon Don Keno as a
Mexican ranchero of wealth, and to her he is
known as Don Reno.”

h {Brut does her mother know who and what
e is

“ Oh, yes, for she is in the secret with Don
Henry.” /

“And they both wish their daughter to marry
Don Keno?”

“ They do; but the Senorita Leone does not
love him, I am sure.”

“ Well, if we capture Don Keno we will
break up this little game of deviltrg.”

“ Yes, and I would be glad fort egirl’s sake,
as Don Keno is already married.”

“ Indeed!” ’

“ He is.”

“ Where is his wife?”

“ At the camp.”

“ She lives there with him?”

is  9’

“ And knows him to be an outlaw?”

“ She knows it now, but she did not when she
married him.”

“ He deceived her then?”

“He did, indeed, and her parents, too.

“ You see she comes from down on the coast,
and met the Don there and loved him.

“ He was then an outlaw captain, but the
soldiers made it too hot for him and he had to
come up here.

“ I met him when I had half a dozen men un-
der me,”

“What were you doing?”

“ Killing, stealing and raiding in Texas.”

‘5 I see")

“Yes, and the Don had a dozen men, so we
joined forces, and gradually added to our band.

“ Some years ago the Don left for awhile, and
he brought back with'him his wife and I recog-
nized heras a fyoung girl whom I had known
and loved be ore I had to hunt the chaparrals
to save my neck.

“She believed him to be a Mexican ofiicer
stationed in the hills, and for along time be de-
ceived her; but one day I told her, and I never
saw a woman grow so mad in my life as she

did.

“ She did not say anything, however, and I
guess she got over her mad.”

“ And still, having a wife, he wishes to marry
the daughter of Don Henry 9”

“ Yes, that is his little game, for he could have
I. wife in two (places, like a sailor, you know.”

Charlie sai nothin , but he thought deeply,
and it was only when uan halted in some mes-
quite bushes not far from the hacienda that
loomed up before them that he asked:

“ Well, what is to be done nowl”

“Capture the Don,” was the quiet response

d the traitor outlaw.

*
\



 

 

 

i.” -. “in... ,

i.

 
 
 

  

 
  
 

 
   
 
  
  

 

     
   
  

 

 
 

 

Texas Charlie. the Boy Ranger. [9

 

CHAPTER XVI.
SETTING 'rmi: TRAP.

“Now, how are we to get hold of the Don!"
asked Charlie, as the two halted among the
was uites.

“ ll go forward, call iliéiethe man at the gate,
and ask him to tell Don no that I Wish to see
him. ’

“ You will do no such thing.”

“ Why not 1"

" Because I won’t trust you.”

“ Didn‘t I tell you I would help you capture
the Don if you would spare my life!”

“ Oh, yes; but 1 am no fool, for if I let ou
go it is more than likely that you and the on
would bag me.” ‘

“ I hope you don’t think I’d do that,” said the
Mexican, in an injured tone.

“ I know that you would, so you’ll have to

I stud up another plan.”

“ don’t know any other.”

“Then I will pro 056 one.”

“ What is it?” an it was evident that Juan
was deeply disa pointed, for he had counted
upon getting the o to release him to help him
capture the Don, w an it was his intention to
quickly finish up Charlie.

But Charlie had been with Old Hickory too
long not to have cut his eye-teeth in cunning,
and was, besides, a very bright and precocious
youth of his age, so was not to be caught nap-

pm .

“a will tie you here to a mesquite bush, gag
you to keep you from talking in your sleep, and
then go to the hacienda and tell the gateman‘ to
ask the Don to come at once to the stronghold.

“ Then, when he comes along the trail, I will
lariat him or shoot him.” .

“ He won’t come if the gateman tells him a
stranger called for him.”

“ That’s so. Well, I have another plan!”

“ Well?”

“You can go, and I will go with you.”

“ Why don’t you know that the gateman will
see that am tied 3”

“Yes, if you went tied: but I’ll fix you so
that he won t see it, and I’ll do it now.”

Charlie then set to work and fastened his
prisoner’s legs securely to his saddle.

Then he set his arms free, and mounting be-
hind him he rode toward the hacienda gate.

Halting in the shadow of the wall Charlie led
the horse up to the little window, and then hop-
pled him so that he could not run 01!.

Then he took his stand in the shadow and lev-
eling his revolver at the Mexican said quietly:

“ Now call up theéwrtero, Juan.”

The Marauder ha nothing to do but obey,
and he knocked loudly upon the window.

“ Who is iti” asked a voice sullenly from
within.

“Juan, the comrade of Don Reno,” was the
answer.

“ I will open the gate and let you enter, but
I did not expect on back ” said the voice

,within, and Charlie rememhered that Juan

had told him that the Don had sent him to the
stronghold for the band, to attack a train which
Don Hen had told him of.

“ No. I not expect to return so soon: but I

“-\ e

 

met a messenger that wanted to see Don Reno,
so returned to tell him.

“ I will let you in as soon as I can throw a
um 3 around me.”

“ ‘ell him to come to the window—that you
do not wish to come in.

“ Quick l”

The whisper of Charlie was earnest, and Juan
did not dare disregard it, for, could he have
gotten the portero to come to the gate, he would
have told him he was a prisoner, and thus
forced Charlie to fly for his life, as the men of
the ranch were at hand.

“ I do not care to come in, only let me see you
a. moment at the window, good Luez,” said
Juan, who knew the pattern well, having often
been to the hacienda with Don Keno.

The stout panel of the little window was
drawn back at this, and Luez looked out. i

“Well, Senor J nan?”

“ Please say to Don Reno” (such was the
name the chief went by at the hacienda) “ that
I found it necessary to return for him, and that
I will await him at the mined hacienda below,
where there is some one whom he wishes to

e.

“ Shall I tell him who it is?"

Juan spoke with Charlie’s revolver covering
him and answered:

“Yes, tell him it is his Texas messenger and
he will understand.”

“I will do so, Senor Juan: but I am so
that you cannot come in and seek a good h
for thesa are dangerous times to be abroad in.”
The Cpanel was closed and Luez shuffled oil,
while harlie took the hopples ofl of the horse
and rung up behind Juan.

“ _ho is the Texas messenger?” he asked.

“ His spy in San Antonio.’

It  I”

“ I knew that would fetch him, for he was
ewectmg him, and doubtless will think I met
him at the ford and so came back for him.”

“ And where is this ruined ranch?”
tr‘;ll)’own the river a mile, not far of! the main

a .

“ He will come, you think!”

“ 1 know it.”

“And there is a good place toambush him
there i”

“ The best in the world."

“ To lariat him?”

“Yes.”

“ Good, for I do not wish to kill him.”

“ Let me help you lariat him."

“ How?”

“ I’ll take the horse and you the Don.”

“I Will not free on to do so.”

“ You are terrib y suspicious.”

“Yes, I don’t trust you.”

“Well, you can tie my feet so I cannot get
awa and untie my hands so that [can throw
the ariat."

“ I'll see when we get there.” i

_ With this noncommittal reply Charlie again
tied up the arms of his prisoner and mounting
his own horse the two rode on together to the
ruined hacienda.

. a4

 

  

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
spamomo THE M.

THE mined hacienda was certainly a charm-
lng place for an ambush, if I may so express it,
‘ or for the committal of some red deed.

Its walls were still standing but a fire had

destroyed the roof and interior long years ‘
before, and within what was once its living ‘

rooms trees had rown.

The trail from on Henry’s ranch led directly
3y the ruin, passing close to the walls and

harlie’s bright eyes took in the situation at
once.

“Juan I will get you to help me capture the
Don ” he’said.

“1'11 do it.”

" He comes right along here, you say?”

“ Yes.”

“ No other trail he can take?”

“ None."

“ He may go of! some distance from the
ruin?”
it “ Don’t you see the chapparral there prevents

“ True: well, do you see that walll”
“ I do.”

“ It is about nine feet high.”

“ Just about.”

“And that tree from the other side grows ‘

over it so as to shelter any one standing there.”

“ I see that it does.”

“Now you get up there and I’ll leave your
hands loose, but I’ll tie you to the tree.

“ When the Don reaches this spot, you throw

’ your lsriat and catch him.”

“And the horse?”

“I’ll look after the horse, and I’ll keep my
eye on you too, so that if you stoop down to
anti: your feet, just expect a bullet asa visi-

tor.

“I wish you would trust me, boy.”

“ I can’t, Juan, I can’t."

“ Where will you stand?”

“Right here in this doorwa ."

“ All ri ht; let us get our p aces, for the Don
will soon along.”

Charlie rode into the ruin, and placing the
horse alongside of the wall and releasing Juan’s
hands, he got him up to the desired position.

Then he made his, feet fast and gave him his

lariat.

Hitohing the horses in the ruin, he then took
his stand at the door, his rifle leaning against
the wall by his side and his lariat coiled in his

ad. .

, Thus he waited, and it was but a minute before
he heard the fall of boots.

Then he remembered that he had neglected to
gag Juan. and fearing that he might call out
an warn the Don, thus placing him on an
equality with him, Charlie said in aloud whis-

“admin!”
“ Well?"
“ If you call out to warn the Don I’ll answer

' i with my revolver.”

“ I am not goin to play you false, boy."
“ See that you 0 not."
Thonextmomentahoneman came in sight,

 

coming out of the chaparral, and plainly visible
in the moonlight.

There was no doubt but that it was Don Keno,
andfiioth Juan and Charlie got ready for their
WOI‘ .

Charlie fully realized his position.

That he was but a boy, and had a man pris-
oner there, while he was daringly attempting to
take another.”

A mistake on his part, a cry on the part of
Juan, might be fata to his plans.

But he never for an instant wavered, and his
nerve was as firm as iron.

Nearer and nearer came the Don, until sud-
denly he drew rein, not thirty paces from the
ruin.

Charlie saw that he carried a pistol in his
hand. as though ready for any danger.

“ Ho, J uanl ’

He called out in his stern voice.

Before Charlie could put his head back and
ghifiper to Juan to answer, the prisoner called

ac :

“ Si, senor chief I am here."

“Bucno,” cried the Don, and replacing his
pistol in his belt he rode in toward the opening

is horse showing signs of fear, which ca
his rider to say: ,
t “ 9n, good Aztec, it is a friend and not a
as

Hardly had the last word left his li when
down from the wall came Juan’s coil, an settled
over the head and shoulders of Don Keno, while
out from the opening in the wall shot Charlie's
lariat and encircled the arching neck of the fine
animal ridden by the chief.

Each lariat was made fast, and as the horse
bounded forward he was brought up with a
jerk, while Don Keno was dragged from his
middle and fell to the earth just as Charlie
sprung to his side, and pointing his revolver at
his head cried:

“ Don Keno, the Marauder, you are my
game.”

The Don was considerably amazed shocked
and enraged, while the lariat held his arms
close to his side so that he could only hiss forth:

“Curse on, he , I thought you were dead.”

“No, I didn’t take your poison; but you’ll be
dead if you so much as crook our elbow.”

With this Charlie disarme the man. whose
profanity broke forth in Mexican and English
oaths that were fearful to hear.

But Charlie very coolly bound his prisoner
securely, the while keeping an eye upon Juan,
and then left him lying on the ground while he
went up to help his treacherous ally to descend
from the wall.

h “ 830, Don Keno, I have a pard of yours
ere. -

The outlaw chief cast one glance at Juan and
shouted forth:

“ Hal on are the traitor that has done this.”

“No, on Keno, the b0 captured me as
cleverly as he has you, an to save my life I
got you into the thongs. It was a case ‘of life
or death with me, and I preferred to live and
let you die.

“That is all of it.”

/,

 

 

« "mead J—Ammu“: \q«  A

e”

Fa

rill»

 

 

 

 

I{'

about for a good halting- lace.

 

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. '1

 

"Oh! but you shall rue this,” growled Don

eno.

“ It is my opinion that this youngTexan will
take good care of me by not allowmg you to
escape, Don Keno.”

Charlie had been getting the horses ready for
the road during this little talk between the two
outlaws, and now said:

“Come, Don Keno, you must mount, for we
have a long trail before us.” .

“ Boy, I have got plenty of gold to give you
it you will let me go,” said ,the chief.

‘Don't talk, Don, for ['m not for sale. Mount
your horse."

tigeverhpi dra hi dI’llti hi

uan e me in up, an e m~
in his saddle}? 3

Seeing that he would be roughly handled,
Don Keno mounted with Charlie’s aid, and his
feet were then hound beneath his horse, and his
hands left tied behind him.

Juan was then served in like manner, and
mountin Hidalgo, and holding the lariat as a
reins to rive his novel team, Charlie started of!
the horses at a gallop along the trail into the
interior, as happy as a lark at his double cap-
ture, and the anticipation that his good work
was not yet finished.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
A (mass: ON THE rnamm.

CHARLIE certainly had his hands full in tak-
ingcare of his two prisoners.

ut he had accomplished more than he had
ever dreamed it was in his power to do, and
what many a ranger had undertaken and failed
in doing, so he was resolved to get his risoners
into camp if he neither ate a moutht or slept
a wink in doing so.

He went along the trail at a slow center, and
was glad to see that Don Keno and Juan were
like himself splendidly mounted, so that he had
no fear of their horses breaking down if pushed
to a rapid pace.

The two men rode away in silence, the chief
glancing daggers at Juan, who wore a look of

ndiflerence.

The dawn came at last, and Charlie searched

At length the reache a small stream, and
in the shadow o . some trees halted for rest and
breakfast.

The horses were watered and staked out, the

risoners dismounting willin ly, and they

 

brew themselves down upon t a ground and
watched Charlie build a fire and prepare break-
fast. for each one of the trio was supplied With
provisions for their journe , it being the duty
of a good prairie-man to a we a go prelpared
for any emergency; and _a t orough enan
would no sooner th nk of gomg on a jaunt with-
out his supplies than a seacaptain would think i
of sailin without first storing his shi . _ ‘
Releas ng one prisoner at a time harlie al- r
lowed him~to eat his breakfast, and when both
had finished he sat down to partake of his own I
re t. .
n Keno seemed really delighted to see that
Charlie treated Juan in t a same manner that
he did 111018611; and sold with a sheer:

" Your treachery is poorly rewarded I see,
for the boy does not trust you.”
“Oh, I’ll get my reward, senor,” was the

re .

P‘ {doubt it, unless you get han ed.”

“ You will get our neck in t enoose, Don
Keno, while I go gee.”

“Juan, you are a fool, for the boy will
hand you over to the Rangers as he will me.”

“ But they will spare me."

“ Bah! you know Sam Hall and his Rangers
too well to think that they would spare a
Marauder.” '

“ If the boy asks it.”

“.The boy will be conveniently absent after
giving us up, and you will be hanged with
me

Juan turned pale, for he liked not this
thought.

“Better plan with me some we to get our-
selves out of this scrape," said Don eno, when
Charlie went to lead up the horses.

“ How can we?” eagerly asked Juan.

“ I am sure i do not know; but we must con-
coct some plan of action that will get us out of
this, and we have no time to lose.”

Thoroughly alarmed, for he now began to
doubt the Promise of Charlie to him, Juan began
to think 0 some we of escape, and both men
remained silent and uried in deep thought as
they rode along.

But Charlie was well aware that they were
most willing to make their escape if they could,
and so kept his eyes upon them every instant,
watching the thongs that bound them to see
that they did not slip their hands through.

Suddenly Don Keno’s dark eyes became fixed
upon5 an object in front, and he said after a mo-
men :

“ Boy, you are going to have trouble."

“What do you mean?”

“If I mistake not, I saw an Indian’s head
above the roll in the prairie yonder.”

“ Well, we will make a circuit so as to avoid
that rise,” said Charlie, turning oil of his course.

“ What if we are attacked by Indians?”

“We will have to run for it,” answered
Chaglie. th I P

‘ up . ey corra you

“Well, I will have to fight it out and stand
them 011'."

“And we will help you, of course, for our
lives as well as yours depend upon it,” remarked

uan.

“It is mighty little he] I would at from
you,f’ muttered Charlie, and, just then fiver the
rise in the prairie. came dashing a score of Co-
manche warriors in all the glory of war-paint.

They had seen by the change in the course of

‘ the three horsemen that they had been discov-

ered, so they at once charged down upon the
little party.

“Now we must run, and I warn you I will
stand no foolishness even if red-skins are after
us," said Charlie, and he urged the three horses
into a run.

The Comanches were yet a uarter of a mile
distant. but they seemed we mounted, and
were coming on rapidly.

Hudalgo and the animals ridden by Don Keno
and Juan ran well, however. and the Indians

 

 
   
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
  
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
   

t . ‘ x

I!

~—

Tens Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

not gain any though’pushing their ponies hard.

“ We are driving our horses hard when there ,
is no need for it,” said the Don.

“ I think there is much need for it,” answered
Charlie, curtly. A

“You can easily teach those red‘skins a lesson
and thus save our horseflesh.

(I How in

“You drop back while we ride on, and drop
one of their number with your rifle.”

“ I’ll take your advice as to the slacking _up
and flrin on them, but not allow you to ride
on, for I ave half an idea I would never catch
up with you again,” and Charlie smiled while
Don Keno scowled.

“You don’t think we would want to escape
bound as we are?” asked Juan.

“Oh, yes; for you could get
the trail to your stronghold, an
through all right; but, as my old school-teacher
used to say, ‘united we stand, divided we fall,’
and we three will keep together.”

“ Oh, but you are a cunning wolfl” growled
Juan, and Charlie laughed, while he reined back
the three horses to a slower pace and soon came
to a halt.

The Indians divined his intention to fire, and
drew up at what they considered a safe dis-

tance.

But Charlie raised the rifle which he had found
hanging to Don Keno’s saddle, and after a short
aim touched the trigger.

With the crack of the weapon a mustang
dropped dead. and the Indians turned and fled
iu,hot haste, followed by the brave whose pony
had one down.

“ at them have the other shots!” cried Don
Keno, for the weapon was a. repeating rifle, and
Charlie sent half a dozen bullets flying after the
redskins, and with an aim that was true enough
to bring down another pen and wound a war-
rior, for one was seen to rec in his saddle.

“ You are a crack shot, boy, to hit at this
distance,” said Don eno.

With a smile Charlie reloaded the was on,
and the three rode on, the red-skins still fol ow-
ing. but at a safe distance, for the most for-
midable firearm they had among them was an
old army musket.

CHAPTER XIX.

m FACE SEEN IN  ransom BUSES.

As the horses of the three fugitives seemed so
far superior to their ponies, the Comanches soon
gave up the chase, and it may be they were in-
fluenced in so doing by the deadly repeating r
rifle of which they had gotten a sample at long }

ranfir |
C lie drew down then to a center, and soon
after edged round into the trail he had been
following when driven ofl by the redskins.

A halt of an hour was made at noon, but
Charlie had begun to suspect his prisoners of
some plot, and so fed them himself, refusing to
untie their arms.

At this they grumbled savagely at first, and
then begged, but the youth was obdurate and
told them they had either to eat what he fed
them or go without.

‘ Again mounting, they pressed on at a good

our horses on
doubtless get

 

, in a Dlmant way.

I rate of speed, the prisoners becoming more and

more gloomy as they neared their journey’s

‘ end, and which they began to fear would he the

end of their journey or life.

Knowing that the horses could not be pushed
on through the night without injuring them, a ud
disliking to harm three such splendid animals,
Charlie reluctantly made up his mind to e u-
camp, and began to look out for a good place.

Just at sunset he rode into a clum of timlmr,
where he had before stopped with ld Hickory
on more than one occasmn.

There was good water and grass to be found
there, and he had plenty of game for supper,
which he had shot upon the ride during the
afternoon.

As he rode up to the camping place, he failed
tosee a. face ring at him from some mes-
quite bushes t t grew thick in one side of the
matte.

Don Keno happening to glance in that direc-
tion, caught sight of the face and started, while
his lips nearly uttered an exclamation of sur-
prise.

But be checked himself in time and glanced
meaningly at Juan, who saw by the chief’s
flushed face that something had occurred.

Straight to the spot he had selected, Charlie
rode, and dismounting, soon had his prisoners
standing by his side.

Then be tied their feet while he led the horses
itIWSy to stake them out upon the prairie to

es .

Coming back he soon had a fire, and the scent
of broiliug meat rose on the air and all appeared
hungry, while Don Keno was really merry,
laughing and chatting very little like a man
who was on the eve of death.

Juan smiled at the remarks of the chief, and
also seemed less cast down. ‘

soon the supper was ready, consisting of
brofled venison, birds, a tin cup of codes each,
a raw onion, baked potatoes and some crackers.

Charlie was proud of the supper he had pre-
pared for his prisoner guests and himself, and

ad not the heart to keep their hands tied so
that they could not enjoy it, so be relieved them
of the bond about their arms, but sat opposite
to them, a revolver lying upon each side ready
for the grasp of either hand.

While they thus sat eating their supper and
laughing at the Don chatting, the same face
which had peered out from the mesquite bushes
was now gazing at them from behind a large
tree near by. I

It was a aggard face, the eyes deep sunken
but full of fire, and the man seemed to have ha
hard luck.

With eagerness that showed intense hunger
be gazed at the tempting in per, and gritted his
teeth as though to control t e impulse to bound
forward and grasp some of the edibles and de-
vour them.

The Don made himself really entertaining
during the meal, but all the while his eyes were
rovmg searchineg about the timber; as though
he expected to see the same face that bad ap-
peared to him as he rode into the timber.

“ So you think, my boy, that you will reach
the Ranger camp to-morrow afternooni”he said

 

 

,~>

~fi4,

m r-

 

.p

 

“we:

 

 

  
    

7 - (

Tens Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

,y-

 

“Yes, if we are not chased ofl ourtrailby
some more Indians,” answered Charlie.

“You know Sam Hall, you say?"

“ Yes."

“ His men call him Buckskin Sam, I believe.”

“ers, that is the name he is generally known

“ I have also heard him called Little Yankee.”
“ So have I,” and Charlie hit of! a delicious
mouthful of steak from a piece he held in his
hand and chewed it with a gusto that showed
that he was most willing to discuss that just

then.

“ Well, Hall and his Rangers have been a ter-
ror to us," si bed Don Keno.

“And we ave not seen the last of them,"
averred Juan with another sigh.

“ You think that the maJor will hang usl"
asked the Don.

“ He will hang you.”

“ And why not J nan?” quickly asked the chief.

“BecauseI will protect Juan as I promised
to,” was the quiet response.

“Bravo, bog, put your hand there Pt and
Juan held fort his hand for a friendly grip.

“ Charlie grasped his revolver and extended
it, while he said, coolly:

“ No, thank on, Juan, for your grip I might
not be able to s ake ofl'.

“ Fasten on tothe muzzle of this.”

Juan drew back his hand with an oath, while
Don Keno lau bed heartily.

As soon as heir supper was ended Charlie
tied their hands behind them once more, and
with great care, to be assured of their security.

Then he tied their feet more firmly, and
spreading their sera told them to lie down.

“ Where do you s eep, boy?”

“Just here by this tree, Don Keno."

“ Why not here with us?”

“I don’t like to be crowded; but you make
yourselves comfortable and don't mind me
for I will water the horses and then take a_ look
around before I go to sleep,” and Charlie put
on e ean wa e o ow are e orses

tthflr d lkdfft b thh
Evere feeding, while Don Keno remarked to

uan:

“ That boy is as cunning as a Comanche; but
it will serve him no good this night.” \

“What do you mean, chiefl’ eagerly asked

uan.

“ Wait and see,” was the quiet response of
Don Keno, as he lay down to rest as well as he
could, bound as he was.

CHAPTER XX.
“ rwo am: one am: man.”

Cum, in his tour of inspection, found the
horses en oying the good grass upon which they
were fee ing, and leading them to water, he
then staked them out in a fresh place,- so that
theflv could eat all they wanted.

e was not sure but that a roving band of In-
dians might happen upon them; but of this he
must take the chances.

He was utterl worn out by his loss of rest
the past few nig ts, and felt that he must have

s] .
efigi he did not like the chanaed manner of

 

Don Keno, and felt that he had made some dis»
covery that might help him.

What it was the cunning boy had no means
of guessing; but if on his guard he wouldbe
forewarned against a surprise.

He had also seen the looks of the Don into the
timber, as though expecting some one, and con-
cluded he would make a quiet tour of the
thicket before seeking the rest he so much '
needed.

With his revolver in hand he glided through
the motto, but found nothing, and then sought
his blanket. .

The night was a little chilly and he kindly
spread Juan’s sera and blanket over the two
men as they lay si e by side, knowing that they
could not use their arms to do so.

Neither of the prisoners spoke a word and
Charlie asked:

“ Are you asleep?”

No rep v.

“ Say, Don Keno, you sleep sound.”

Still no reply, and Char is called to Juan

with:

“ Juan, if the Don attempts to escape to-night
I will expect you to wake me up.”

But Juan was also sleeping soundly, or pre-
tending to, for he made no reply.

“ Well, you two are good, hea thy sleepers for
men who ive the dangerous lives you do,” said
Charlie, as be fixed himself for his rest, more
and more convinced that there was something
working wrong against him, for he did not for a
mfment believe that the two prisoners were
as ea . ,

Sopdead with slumber was the worn-out boy
that his eyes closed as he lay down.

But he knew, or surmised, his danger and
forced the heavy lids to open again.

Thus a few in nutes passed, and he saw. net
as he felt that he must sleep or die, Don no
raise up to a sitting sture. -

This awoke him fu ly to be on the alert.

But he did not move and some time after be-
gan to breathe heavily.

“ The boy's asleep at last,” whispered Don

eno.
“ I saw that he was so worn out that he could
not keep his eyes open long,” whispered back

nan.

“ Well, he will sleep like the dead now. for I
know what the slumber of prostration is.”

“ Now, what is your little game, Don
Keno?”

l “ Wait, and see," and the chief coughed
on y.

But Charlie breathed on as heavily as before
and seemed not in the least disturbed.

“ Here he comes,” at last said the Don.

H who?”

“ Rito.”

“ The Guide pr"

“ Yes.”

“ Is be here!"

u Yes.”

“ How do you know!”

“ I saw his face peering out of the mes uites
as we rode into the timber, and he looks sick
and wretched; but I have heard him several
times since in the thicket."

“ Where is be!”

 

    

84 Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

"I thought that he was coming, but my eyes
tooled me through imagination.”

“ Is the boy asleep, do you think!”

“ Yes, indeed.”

“ If Rite does not come—”

“ He will come.”

“ Perha s you imagined that you saw him.”

“ Bah! am no foo .”

“You just thought that you saw him.”

“ I was hoping for his appearance; but when
we rode into the timber he was not in my mind,
and I believed him dead, as that boy reported,
you know, that he was-caught in his treach~

er .”

x Perhaps he is dead and that was his spirit,”
and Juan shuddered.

Don Keno also had the superstition of his race,
and felt a shiver run over him at this, while he
whis ered:

“ is face did look deathlike.”

For a minute both men were silent, and then
Juan said:

“ I would like to believe that the boy meant
to act square toward me, but I had better be on
the safe side. ”

H  ?”

“ I have a plan to finish him.”

“ W ell?”

“ You are the heaviest man!”

u Yes.”

" Get up quietly and work your way to with-
in a foot of the boy.”

u Yes."

“ Then spring into the air and come down
with your heels upon the boy‘s head.”

“Juan you are a jewel.

“ I will do it now and not wait longer for
Riwg,“ I ha]! fear that it was his ghost that I
saw.

“Your heels will crush his skull."

“They will, indeed, and then we will manage
in some way to free our arms.”

“ One moment, Don.”

“ Well?"

“ You know that I aided in your capture?"

“Can I forget it?”

‘I‘iTI’iat is just what you must pledge yourself
to o. ’

“ I will keep a. pledge if I give one, Juan.”

“And you will give me your promise to for-
give me and drop the affair?”

“ I will not.”

" Then, by the cross, I arouse the boy.”

“ Hold! I give the pledge,” was the quick re-

use.

“Then now do your work.”

“ Ahl there comes Rite.”

“01‘ his ghost."

“No, that is no ghost.

“ Then we are saved.”

The next instant there glided up to the spot
the form of a man, and in his hand he carried a
stout stick.

With this stick it was evident that he intended
to strike the sleeping boy.

But suddenly he stopped short, for with a '
lightning—like movement he was covered with a g
revolver, while Charlie, still lyiu down, cried: l
“ S’top just there, Bite the Gui e, or I will kill ;
ou.’

y “ Don’t fire. for I cry quarter.” called out the 1

man, dropping his stick and raising one hand
above his hea ,

“Up with that other hand, quick!” shouted
Charlie.

“ I cannot raise it, for you broke my arm
when you shot me at the train,” was the reply.

“I’d break your hind now, only I wantyou
to join my two prisoner pards, for two and one
make three,” and Charlie laughed HS he sprung
to his feet and quickly secured his third prisoner.

 

CHAPTER XXI.
A uor‘s rowan or rsnsuasmn.

HAVING securnly hound Rito the Guide, Char-
lie quickly lighted a fire to have a look at him.

He saw that the man’s face was full of suffer-
ing and that he was in tutters, while he was
wholly unarmed.

Gluncing at Don Keno. Charlie observed that
his face was black as a thundercloud, and that
he looked pale again at his dish pointmunt.

Juan also seemed to fuel ( apply the turn
oifuirs had taken, and confident that Charlie
had been awake and heard all thrit was said, he
did not expect much mercy from him after his
cool proposition to the chief to jump upon him
and, smash in his skull.

“Boy, I am starving and I want food,” said
Rita earnestly and in husky tours.

“You shall have it, for here is the remnant
of our supper and I will soon have some hot
Coffee for you, ’ and Charlie spoke kindly, for he
really pitied the man.

As soon as the treacherous guide had in a
measure satiatod his hunger Charlie asked:

" How is it I find you in this fix?"

“It is better than being dead, isn’t it?” was
the surly response.

“Tell us about it, Rito," said D:m Keno.

“Well, there is ill lie to tell {hut that boy
don’t know, for he came to my train and de-
nounced me as a spy, and he gave me this
wound, which broke the bone of my arm, While
he rode away unhurt.

“ The train-boss had a suspicion that all was
not right, so sent back on the trail to the fort,
and the messenger [not Hull and half a dozen of
his Rangers, who came on to the camp, nnd, of
course, it was up with me, for they knew who

the boy was when thoy described him, and
went on to the Dead Man's Pass, where they
found that you and the lll(_‘ll had just left there.

“ Coming back to the ca mp of the train they
intended to hang me, but 1 expected some such
work, and having fever I just played delirious,
and Sam Hall said he would not string upa
man out of his head, but told the train-boss to
keep me until I got well and that they would
pay him a visit where he settled and Christen
the settlement by hanging me.

“I heard all this and got raving, you may
wager high, but at night I slipped off while the
emigrant who was watching me was asleep.

 

“ I could not got a weapon of any kind. but
that made no ditfereuce, for I wanted to save
my lire. ,
“Well, I have wandered on prairie and in
Chaparral ever since, with nothing to eat, and it

i was a happy moment for me to see you ride in-

to this timber and camp, and 1 determined to

    

 

 

 

 

  
  
 
 

\

~'  W: 2. . "

Texas Charlie, the 'Boy Ranger. ‘5

 

rescue you from the boy, whose prisoners I saw
that you were. ‘

“ Well, comrades, I did my best for you, and
for myself too, and on see the result.’

“ Curses on our rd luck,” growled Don
Keno.

“It is hard luck for youthut good luck for
me, I admit,” said Charlie, rismg.

‘ What are you going to do, boy?” asked Don
Keno.

“ Iam going to get the horses."

“You don’t mean it!”

H I do.”

“ hat, go on to—nighti‘"
ll 68'”

“ We have had no rest.”

“ Neither have I.”

“ The horses won’t stand it.”

“Oh, yes, they will, for they have had over
three hours’ rest, with plenty of water and
grass, and we won’t push them unless we have
to

It was very evident that the three prisoners
wanted the youth to remain encamped for the
remainder o the night, hoping that some un-
goreseen circumstance might turn up in their
aver.

But Charlie was not willing to risk longer do-
lay and, tired as he was he was determined to

us on.
p He soon t the horses saddled and bridled,
and ordere the prisoners to be ready to mount.

“ I suppose I walk?” snarled Rito.

“Oh, no; Iwill let you ride behind me for
awhile, and then have you take. turnabout with
the others, so that the horses Will have an equal
share of you.” _

The men now stood in line, hound hand and
foot, but they looked ugly.

They were cut deep to the cart that they
should be the prisoners of a mere boy.

f Billi there they were, and there was no help
or t.

Still they felt aggreSSi we in the worst degree.

“ Come, mount, Don Keno,” said Charlie.
“No, he , I have had enough of this,” was the

an re . .
ggou fishnet have it otherwise.”
“ I will, though.”
“ How l!

“Men, lay down and he cannot move us, that
is i???” d ed t th d
e ree men rop o e roun .

“ Will you get up, Bou Kenoig asked Charlie

quietly.

“ I will not."

“ I hate to force you to.”

“You cannot force me, boy’. '

Charlie sim ly drew his mile and put the
point against t e Don’s back.

“ Will you obey i” _

“No, and you dare not kill me, for you

would give your soul to take me alive to the“

ngers. .
“ I do not intend to kill you.”
“ What, then?” .
“I will see just how much sticking you can
“'3ka i oed, b t d 1y
on enown u maenorep .
“Will you go!”
u No.”

  

 

Charlie suddenly seized the man’s ear in a
strong grip, and laying the knife-edge upon it,
said sternly:

“” ow, do as I tell you, or oi! comes your
ear.

Don Keno was a handsome man, and one
, filled with vanity of his personal appearance.

l He could not suffer the loss of an ear, and he
saw that the boy was in earnest.

So he said sul only:

“ Curse you, boy, I won’t have you disfigure
me, so help me to rise and mount.”

Charlie did so, and the chief was bound se-
curel upon his horse. '

“ ow, Juan, do you intend to mind, or
would you rather lose your ear?”

“ I will do as you say.”

“ Then here is your horse.”

Juan then was aided into his saddle, and be-
ing bound, Charlie turned to Rite:

“ Now, what will you do?" ,

“ You’ll not back me down as you did them,
if one is my chief.” was the savage reply.

“ You do not mind then the lass oi an ear?"

' “ Cut them both OR if on like.”

“ No, I’ll try another p an."

All looked to see what that other plan was.

Charlie soon showed them, for he took 006-,
half of the lariat that bound the three horses to-
gether, and fastened it around the neck of the
treacherous guide.

Then he made a loop in it, and passed it over
the horn of his saddle.

Going to the man he said: '

“ I do not wish to harm you, for your arm is
broken, and I will give you much pain; but if
ou_ do not let me aid you to mount that bone

Will knock you down and drag youif Ikili
you.

_Rito shook his head viciousl , and nick into
his face went the small, har flst o Charley;
Bigelow, felling the strong man to the ground.

Then leaping into the saddle he moved the
horses forward; the lariat tightened, and the
man would have been dragged along on the
ground by his neck had he not shouted out:

“ I yieldl For God’s sake do not choke me to
death l”

Charley rained up instantly, and leapin to
theground, aided the man to his feet, and t on
‘asgsted him to mount behind his saddle. »

Then he sprung nimny into the saddle, and
the three horses were headed out upon the ‘-
prairie.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
run 301? assess.

01mm during that night-ride across the rai-
rie with his three outlaw captives, Charlie gigo-
low found himself awaking with a start from a
«sound nap, for he was utterly worn out.

In silence the prisoners rode along, each busy
with his own though ts and to relieve the horses
of their double weight, Charlsy quite often
sprung up behind Don Keno and uh, this being
easier than for him to dismount and mount Rite
on another animal. '

Now and then the captives would beg for a
halt, but Charlie was firm, and flatly told them
that there was no haltinz until he reached the

 

 

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

  

 

Ranger camp for he had had trouble enough
with them.

“ I reckon I’ll be gray when I see the Ran-
gers,” he said, half in earnest, and mentally he
wished he had not undertaken so big a task.

But he was nervous from loss of rest and ex-
citement, and it would have been a bad break
for an of his three captives to attempt to trifle
with im then, for he would have ended the
matter by saving the hangman trouble.

After a night that seemed interminable to the
brave youth, the dawn broke and soon after the
sun rose.

During the night he had been traveling from
his knowledge of the lay of the country, and
not having passed any familiar landmarks, was
not certain just where he was, or how far 01:];
his right course he had strayed.

But with daylight his eyes fell upon a stream
he well knew, and soon after, far in the dis-
tance, he spied some low hills clad with trees,
and then the white walls of a hacienda.

“ What ranch is that, b0 i”

The uestion came from on Keno.

“ Maaor Sam Hall’s.”

The three prisoners instinctively turned a
shade whiter, and remained silent.

“ I shall soon introduce ou to him,” con-
tinued Charlie; but seeing t e distressed faces
of the men he forbore from tantalizing them,
for his heart was too noble to enjoy the sufler-
ings of others, be they ever so simple and unde-
serving of pity.

It was not very long before a. column of blue
smoke was seen curling above the tree-tops up
on the left of the trail, and Charlie said:

“ There is the Rangers’ camp; Don Keno, that
you wished me to lead you to.’

“Yes, but I did not expect to come this

n

a .

“Y Nor did I expect that you would do so; but
we shall arrive in time for breakfast.”

“ There must be a number of the Rangers in
camp, for there are nearly a dozen different
columns of smoke which denote as many camp-
fires,” said Juan.

“Yes, the Ran ers are out in force for some
reason,"answere Charlie.

“ How man has Buckskin Sam under his
command?" as ed Don Keno.

“ How many do you think?”

“ l have heard them estimated from forty to
a hundred and fifty."

Charlie laughed, and said:

“ Yes, in a fight they are supposed to number
five times what they really are; but there are
niways half a score in camp, and the whole
squadron take turns at staying there as mes-
sengers to collect the band, if needed in haste.

“But Major Sam, as the boys call him, has
just sixty men under him; but see, we are dis-
covered.”

(is Charlie spoke a horseman came dashing
out 32'. the timber directly toward the advanc- .
ing party, and throwing his hat in the air as
Charlie sprung to the ground from behind Don ‘
Keno, called him by name, and shouted out:

“ Ho, pardsl here is Wild Charlie now."

A yell came from the throats of half a. hun-'
dred men in the timber. and when Charlie rods,

'v

into the camp, leading the three horses bearinrr
the prisoners, all eyes were upon him, and a
dozen voices called out:

“ Bravo, Wild Charlie l”

“Well Charlie, we were just going to look
you up.’ said a young man coming forward
and grasping his hand.

“ Look me up, Major Hall?" 0

“Yes, for I learned of your warning the train
and the way you were served, and supposed
you had been captured by the Marauders, so I
called in the Rangers and we were going to
pay them a call in your behalf.

“But who have you there?”

“ Are you Ma or Sam Hall of the Texas
Rangers?" asked on Keno fixing his gaze upon
the oung Ranger oflicer.

“ am, sir.”

“You are surel not the man that has won
the names of Buc skin Sam and Little Yankee?”
and Don Keno saw before him a man of small,
wiry form, piercing black eyes, a clean cut,
fearless, reso ute face, and long waving hair,
black as night, that fell far below his shoulders.

He was dressed in buckskin leggings stuck in
cavalry boots, on the heels of which were mas-
sive gold spurs, and his huntingshirt of buck-
skin was richly embroidered wirh beads.

His sombrero was of black felt turned up in
front and the flap pinned with a gold star,
while the crown was encircled by a gold chain
for a cord, one end having a toy revolver as an
gnfinnent, and the other a miniature bowie-

n e.

The Ranger was strangely youthful in ap-
pearance for one who had made himself known
over the southwest as a desperate Indian~flghter,
implacable foe to outlaws and Mexicans, and a
grailer that had no superior in the Lone Star

tate.

About his waist was a belt of arms, a pair of
revolvers and bowie of the finest workmanship,
and his rank was denoted only by a. crimson
scarf and the gold star u on is hat, his men
all wearing silver stars an cords.

Having received an answer in the affirmative
that the man before him was none other than
Major Sam Hall, Don Keno said in a distinct
velce:

“ Then, Major Hall, permit me to introduce
myself as Don Keno, captain of the Mexican
Marauders, and the captive, with two others of
my band, of that daring boy.”

Buckskin Sam had never met Don Keno face
to face before, and, in fact, there were not three
of the Rangers that had done so; but at this con-
fession a wild yell broke from their lips, and
pressing forward they called out:

“ Charliel tell us how it happened?”

“Awful easy it seems to me now I am with
you all, but last night it looked different I can

 

{fill hyou,” answered Charlie with a. smile and
us .

“ You, then, Charlie, are the captor of Don
Keno and his two men?"

“ Yes, Major Hall.”

“ Let me congratulate you, and tell you that
you have done a deed that my Rangers and
myself have in vain tried to do the past year.

“ But tell us how it was. and then the boy!

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. 27

 

will aid these gentlemen to dismount and we 
will all have some breakfast, for you and your ‘
captives certainlv look used up.”

“We are, and I feel as though I could sleep a 1
Week."

" First tell us your story, Charlie."

In a few words Charlie told all that had ha
pened, from the chase of himself and Old Biol:
ory b, the Indians to his second escape from
the l: arauders and the capture of Juan, Don
Kane and Rita. .

His words were greeted with shouts of ap-
plause and words of admiration, as he told his
straightforward stor . and at its conclusion
Buckskin Sam grasps his hand and said earn-
estly:

“ Charlie, you are indeed a worthy son of the
Lone Star State, and l baptize you Texas
Charlie.”

“Three cheers for Texas Charlie, pards,"
shouted a voice, and the roar of voices that
broke forth in the cheer was deafening.

“ And now, Texas Charlie, as you have

roven yourself a man, I hereby name you the
gay Ranger of this band.”

‘ ‘hree cheers for the Boy Ranger," cried
one, and again the woods echoed with the
shouts of the gallant Rangers, and that moment
was the proudth of Charlie Bigelow’s life, for
to become one of that daring band had been the
dream of his earliest boyhood.

CHAPTER XXIII.
RANGER JUSTICE.

WHEN the excitement over his story, and his
initiation into the band of Texas Rangers had
in a manner subsided, Charlie called Major
Hall to one side and told him, what he had not
publicly made known, who it was that had
aided him to escape from the Marauders, and
the sad career she led as the wife of the Mexican
bundit~chief.

“ Never mind, Charlie, we will make a young
gidow of her before sunset,” said Buckskin

le. '

“Now, Ma'or Hall,” continued Charlie, “I
told you how captured Don Keno only through
the aid of Juan, and l pledged him his life, and
that he should go free.‘

“It is bad to turn such a wretch as he is
loose, Charlie.”

“True, sir' but we would not have had the
worse wretch, Don Keno, but for him, and I
promised him.”

“And you wish to keep that promise?"

“ 1 must do it, sir.”

“ Well, you shall keep your word to him; but
I will give him inst two days to get out of
Texas, and it wi 1 be death to him if he is
can ht again on this side of the Rio Grande.”

“ have a better plan, sir.”

“ Name it.”

“You for t the Marauders.”

“What 0 them?”

“We have their chief, and I think I could
lead you to their stronghold; but Juan certainly
can, and you could then let him go free, for he
would be upon his own soil.”

“ A splendid idea, Charlie, and I will let you
maneuver this thing, as you have begun so well,
so what do you prom "

 

 

l

“You have fifty men!"

“ Fifty three in camp—no, I beg your pardon,
fifty-four with you.”

, “And the Marauders number just forty-one
with the three who are here.”

“ Well, that leaves thirty-eight, and we can
: wipe them out from the face of the earth.”
“We must cross the river, sir, curly in the
lnight, so as to attack the stronghold and got
back with their stolen booty and cattle before
daylight."

“ Charlie, you are a born soldier, and allshall
be asyou say' but what about the lady?"

“ I will see her, sir, before the light opens,
for I know her tepee well, and will tuko her to
a place of safety with her servant, a peon
woman."

“ Well, we will start this afternoon, so as to
Eeaih the Rio Grande tomorrow night at

ar .

“ Now let us see about breakfast, which
Black Dan has ready for us, and then we will
see what is to be done with the prisoners
though I retty well know what their fate will
be before and.”

The negro servant of Major Hull now had
breakfast ready. and for awhile it was a busy
scene at the different campfires, the prisoners
eating with the major, Charlie and the rest of
the commander’s mess.

But neither of the three outlaws had much

appetite, for their lives hung in a balance, with
death on the side of justice. and they were too
ntgrvous to eat, though Don Keno was calm and
s rn.
After the meal was over the Rangers began to
assemble about their major’s camp-fire. and it
looked as though they knew what would be the
first duty to perform.

“ Comrades," said Buckskin Sam, in his clear
tenor-like voice:

“ You see here three prisoners, brought into
our camp by this brnve be?7 by my side.

“This man, Don Keno s the acknowledged
chief of the Mexican uraullers, and these
other two are men of his hand, one of them
being the traitor who was leading an emigrant
train to death some dnys ago. and would have
done so, but for Texas Charlie, our Boy

n er.

“ ét’hat the Mexican Marauders have done,
we all know, for they have shown themselves
merciless murderers, robbers, and they have
shot down many of our gallant band who have
endeavored to punish them.

“ Is therea dissenting voice that these men
do not deserve death?"

A deathlike silence followed the question.

“ Your silence is answer sutllvivut and I here
condemn Don Keno and his two followers to
death, for such is the justice of the Texas
Rangers.”

A wild about of approval greeted these words,
while Texas Charlie turned to his commander
with anxious face, and Juan became as livid as
did Don Keno and Bite the Guide.

CHAPTER XXIV.
QUICK WORK.
CHARLIE’S look of anxiety toward his chief
was at hearing him pass sentence upon all three

 

  

 



. ‘1‘“,

 

Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.

 

|
of the prisoners, after having promised him that l
he would spare Juan, to make his pledge good 1
to the wretched villain. x
“ You will not hang Juan, sir,” he pleaded.
“ Men,” continued the major: “ I have con-

' demned’ three men to death. but now 1 claim

the rerogative to pardon one of them, offering
him is life, while the other two men have but
ten minutes to live.

“ I claim this pardon to fulfill a pledge made
b Texas Charlie to one of them, for rendering
h magood service.”

“ he Virgin bless you forever, boy,” cried
Juan in a broken voice, whileytears of joy came
into his eyes at his esca e.

“ This man,” Major all went on, “stands
there, and it is throu h his aid that our young
comrade was able to rin to us a captive that
merciless murderer Don eno.

“ Hence it is that I offer him full pardon
when he has done for the Rangers one service.”

'“I will do all in my pow er, Senor Major,”
cried Juan earnestly.

“ Then sir you will lead us by night to the
stronghold of your band, that we may wi o it
out utterly from the face of the earth, and rom
that moment you are free to go your wa ; but
I warn you, never again do you touch oot on
Texas soil.”

“I will guide you to the stronghold gladly,
senor and once againI cross the Rio Grande,
nevoei'I will I come to your land, I swsar it. ”

“Base traitor, you are more deserving of
death than I with all m crimes on my head,”
hissed Don Keno savage y.

“Come, Don Keno, you and that comrade of
yours prepare to die, and Charlie, unbind that
man and set him free. V

Charlie gladly released Juan of his bonds, and

. the grateful wretch seized his hand and kissed

it, much to the young Ranger’s disgust, for he

- hated to see a man so afraid to die as to become

a groveling coward.
As for Don Keno and Rito the received their

a sentence with stolidity, nor did t ey flinch when

they saw the Texans preparing the larlats to
ban them.
“ ajor Halli” suddenly called out Don

no.

“Well, sir?”

i‘ You are a brave man, I know, and
said to have a noble heart, and I beg o
tavor.”

“\Welli” ,

“I do not flinch from death, but I do from
hanflig like a dog.

“ t your men shoot me, and the last words
upon in 1i s will be a prayer for you.”

' Sam a ’s lip quivered, for he was,touched
by this appeal, and he called out:

“Throw aside those lariats, men, and six of
you ste of! ten paces before these men, for, be

ou are
you a

‘what they may in villainy, they have pluck,

and shall die like brave men at least.”

“ God ble you, Major Hall "said Don Keno,
while Rite uttered the words fervently:

“ Senor I thank you, and may t e Virgin

' ' »
save you n {agradgiignfi hour.

Sam Hall east, and his voice quiv-
ored as he gave the order:

 

"Memflreattheirhearts.

" Are you ready!"
The three Rangers standing before each out—
law answered in chorus:

The six revolvers flashed together, and Don
Keno and Bite the Guide dro pod dead in their
tracks; while Juan said to 'Fexas Charlie, by

2 whose Sidl he stood:

“You Rangers make quick work of an ex-
ecution, senor.”

“Now you shall die, you Mexican dog, for I
do not pardon you!” shohted a loud voice, and a
man was leveling a revolver at Juan when,
with the quickness of a flash, Texas Chnrlie
drew a weapon and fired, and the Run er ut-
tered a cry of pain as the pistol droppe from
his shattered .hand.

“Well done, Charlie! Boone, you deserved
that for daring to go against my orders I” cried
Major Hall, springing toward the man through
whose hand the bullet had cut its way.

The wounded man glanced at his hand an in-
stant, marked the course of the bullet, and said
coolly:

“ know I did, major, and I am sorry for it;
but there are no bones broken; it is only a flesh
wound, and I offer the hand to Charlie in token
of forgiveness, for he did right to protect the
outlaw.”

Charlie asped the blood-stained hand, and
thenwoun ed man did not flinch, but said
coo v:

“ Now, Doc, just dress it up like a doll baby,
and I’ll be read for the trail,” and he turned
to a voting ranc etc who was the surgeon of
the Ranger band, and half an hour after he
rode oil! on the trail with his comrades, at whose
head was Sam Hall, Texas Charlie and Juan,
the latter exceedingly nervous, for he knew that
he was among a wild lot of men who eyed him
with no friendly glance. ‘

 

CHAPTER XXV.
_ A Losr ONE room).

A’l‘ a pace that brought them to the banks of
the Rio Grande just at the time they wished,
the Rangers held their way, and then Juan be-
came the guide.

By his side rode Texas Charlie, and the youth ,

had hinted that any sly work to thwart them
would be visited with sudden retribution upon

1m; .
“ I will act square, senor, as you did with me;
but there is one thing I ask of you.”
“What is it, Juan?” i '
“ Let me first see the Senora Rita.”
H No. D
“ I wish to tell her that the Don is dead, and
beg her to fly with me, that I may be her ro-
tector, for with her influence I feel I could he a
difl’erent man.” I
“ I think it would be a good idea Juan, for
on to become a diflereut man; but i intend to
rst see the senora. myself and ask her to place
hersm’ under the protection of Major Hall.”
“ She will not do it.”
“ She shall have the chance to refuse.

 

 

 

 

\

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

I'm- Charlie. the Boy Ranger. 89

 

" But nowhere is the ridge behind the camp
as I remember it?”

“ Yes senor.

“And there are no guards kept here!”

M or." \

"$331? Ilremain here with the major ” and
after a few words with Buckskin Sam Charlie
dismounted and went on foot over the ridge of
the hill.

He reached a int where he discovered the
large tepee of £2 chief, and creeping forward
he gained a position from whence he could see

‘thin.

WIThere was a light there, and Senora Rita was
seated at a table her head buried upon her hands
while the pooh woman lay on a chaparral tiger-
ski'n at her feet.

'Seuora Rita 1”

At her name she started, and Charlie continued
huskil y:

“I am the boy on rescued.

“Put out your ’ght and let me come into the

I!
e be. womani insltanttilyngob: ed and the pext
ment Char] e ide e epee.
“19‘ Oh, why havg you come here!” cried the
woman grasping his hand.

“ To tell you that which will gite you joy to

now.”

“ Holy Virgin, Don Keno is dead,” she

=5. e ,,

“ You killed him!" i ‘ _

“ I captured him and the Rangers shot him.”

“ Oh, young senor you have saved me from
dyeing my hands in that man’s blood, and I bless
you for it, for he was my husband.

“ I loved him. and married him, supposing
him to be an honorable man, but found him what
you know him to be. _

“ Come, Nuna, the chief is dead and we Will
return to our old home.” _

The peon woman sprun to her feet With a
half cry of joy; but Char ,‘e checked her and

id

as :
“"Senora Rita, you and the woman come with

me.

“ Whither?”

“ Out of danger.”

“ Hal then you are not alone!”

“ No, Senora.”

“ The Texas Rangers are-—” .

“ Waiting my return to attack this camp.”

“Then we Will go at once,” and five minutes
after they were hiding upon the ridge, while

 

the Rangers were moving down the ridge trail .

into the camp. ,
“Now, Juan, you must_go, and never let us
see on again," said Charhe._
“l never will, senor; adws,” answered the
Mexican, and he rode 011' along the ridge. {ust

as the Rangers went tearing through the out aw

cam .
VV‘ith wild War-cries and rattling revolvers

all before them and in ten minutes
' :hm?t ed. scared. wretchee were all that . Texas Charlie.

remained of Don Reno’s band of Mexican
Marauders.

“Now I will return for the senora,” said
Charlie, and he rode to the sgot where he had
left her to meet suddenly, ashing along the
ridge, a horseman bearing in his arms a woman.

‘1‘. it is the senora, and Juan is bearing her
0

“ Halt, Juan 1” shouted Charlie.

But the man held on his way, and Charlie
drove his spurs deep and was the next instant
by his side.”

“ Save me, senor i” cried Senora Rita.

“ Take that, boy i" yelled Juan, and he thrust
his revolver forward.

But it snapped, while Charlie’s weapon sent a.
bullet through his brain. ‘

“ I am not hurt," cried Senora Rita, sprin ’ .
to her feet from the ground win-e she 85
fallen with the Mexican, and she added:

“You have returned the service I rendered
you, senor.”

Charlie led the unfortunate lady back to the
camp, and Major Hall was most kind to her
and offered her his protection; but she declined
it politely, and mounting their horses, she and
the peon woman rode ofl? ulfon their way, '
happy in being free from the aranders power.

It was but short work for the Rangers to pack
the outlaws’ horses down with booty, and driv-
ing the herds of ponies and cattle before them
to start on the buck trail for Texas, crossing the
river while it was yet dark, and half-wild with
their grand victory.

Once on the Texan shore Charlie slipped 01!
by himself and rode of! the trail a mile to the
hacienda. of Don Henry.

His interview with that person was very
short, but it was long enough to convince the
renegade Texan that his safety lay in crossing
the riVer to Mexican soil, and he lost no time in
getting together his household goods, family
and servants, and emigrating into a land more
congenial to his wishes and mode of life.

 

CHAPTERXXVL
CONCLUSION. ' .,
Trm’ art that Texas Charlie played as a
youth. 11 wiping out the outlaw band of

on Keno made him a hero, and his name be- '
came famous. '

But, not content to rest upon his laurels won,
he sought new triumphs, and became noted as
a Ranger, Indian-fighter, scout and guide, while
he served with great distinction in several of
the Indian were under the lamented Custer, the
gallant Crook, and other generals of border
fame, While few frontiers-nen are to-day more
respected for their genuine worth than is the-
noblehenrted, whole-souled man whose dash
and daring have won him the title of Wild

THE "D.

 

 

  

x-- :. vyu.

[‘7' A " I v

Bnannn's POCKET LIBRARY.

 

    
   
   
   
   
  
 
    
  
   
   
  

168 Deadwood Dick's Ward' or, The Black Hills
Jezebel. By Edward L. heeler.

169 The Boy Champion. By Edward Willett.

170 Bob Beckett’s Fight for Life; or, Shadowed in
New York. By Charles Morris.

171 Frank Morton, the Boy Hercules. By 011

Coomes.
172 The Yankee Ranger; or, Dusky Darrell. By
Edwin Emerson.
173 Dick Dingle Scout. or, The Frontier Angel. By
Edward S. <llis.
174 Dandy Rock’s Scheme; or, The Golden Hand.
‘ By G. W. Browne.
175 The Arab Detective; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp.
y E‘lward L. Wheeler.
176 Will Wildflrc‘s Pluck; or, The Hidden Hand. By
harles Morris.
177 The Boy, C unmander; or. The Maid of Perth.
BK Col. ren‘iss Ingraham.
178 T e Maniac Hunter; or. The Mysteries of Night
Island. By Burton Saxe.
179 Daint Lance' or, The Mystic Marksman. By
J. E. adger. r.
130 The Boy Gold Hunter; or, Navajo Nick‘s Scout.
B T. C. Harbaugh.
181 T e Scape race Son. By Charles Morris.
182 The Dark- kinned Scout; or, The Freebooters
. of the Mississippi. By Lieut. Col. Hazeitine.
188 Jabez Dart, Detective; or, The Hermit Trapper.
By OllCoomes. ,
I 1.84 Featherweight. the Boy Spy. By Ed. Willett.
185 Bison Bill, the Overland Prince. By 001. Pren-
tiss Ingraham.
186 Eighty Lance and His Pard. By Joseph E.
ger. r.
187 The Trapped Tiger King; or, Dark Paul's Plot.
E Charles Morris.
188 T e Ventrilo uist Detective. A Romance of
. ‘ Rogues. By div and L. Wheeler.
1 1890M Rocky’s Boys; or. Bonito, the Young Mus.
tang-Breaker. By Maj. Sam S. Hall.
190 Sim Simpkins, Scout- or, The Faithful Mountain
Mastiir. By James .Bowen.
191 Dandy Rock‘s Rival; or. The Mysterious Wolf
Rider. By ’Geo. Waldo Browne.
.1192 Hickory Harry; or, Roaring Ralph, the Ventrilo
gust. By Harry St. George.
193 etective Josh rim; or, The Young Gladiator’s
Game. B Edward L. Wheeler.
194 gros ect ete, the Boy Miner. By OllCoomes.
195 he endert’oot Trailer: or. Plucky Phil, of the
Mountain. B T. C. Harbaugh.
196 The Dandy etective' or, The Abducted Boy
Mystery. By Charles Morris.
197 Roy. the Youn Cattle King; or, The Texan
S ort Unmaske . By 001. Prentiss Ingraham.
193 011;? Dan’s Mask; or, The Rival Leagues of
‘ the ines. By Frank Dumont.
199 Dictionary Nat, Detective; or. Bill Bravo, the
’ . Bear Tamer. By T. C. Harhaugh.
299 The Twin HOx-semen; or, The Brothers of the
v. Plumed Lance. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
291 Dandy Darke‘s Pards: or. The Hawks of High
" Pine. By Wm. R. Eyster.
202 Tom..the Texan Tige; or, Old Luke’s Luck. By
Oll Coomes. - _
203 Sam. the Office Boy; or, The Tables Turned. By
7 Charles Morris.
204 ,The Young Cowboy: or, The Girl Trailer’s Tri-
umph. By Ool. Prentiss Ingraham. '
205 The Frontiei-lbetuctive; or, Sierra Sam’s Scheme.
ay E. L Wheeler.
206 hite Lightning; or, the Boy Ally. By T. C.
Harbaugh.
207 Kentuck ’l‘albot‘s Band: or, The Red Lasso. By
’ Captain Mark Wilton.
208 Trapper Tom’s Castle Mystery; or, Dashing
Dick’s Disguise. By Oll Coomes.
209 The Messenger-Boy Detective; or. The Tables
Turned. B Chaxles Morris.
210 The Hunch ack of the Mines;or, Reckless Ralph,
‘. the Road-Agent. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

  
  
 
   
  
 
   
  
 
  
  
    
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
   
   
 
  
 
  
  
   
 
   

 

 

211 Little Giant and His Band: or Despard, the
Duelist. By P. S. Warne.

212 The Jimtown Sport; or, Gypsy Jack in Colorado.
By E, L. Wheeler.

213 The Pirate’s Prize; or. The My terious Yankee
Schooner. By C. Dunning Clark.

214 Dandy Dave, of SheS' ; or, The ’Frisco Flash 0'
Lightning. By T. C. Harbaugh.

215 During Dan the Ranger; or. the Denver Detec-
tive. By Oll Coomes.

216 The C iwboy Captain; or, Ranger Ralph’s Ruin.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

217 Bald Head of the Rockies; or. The Ang‘l of the
Range By Major Sam S. Hall.

218 The .Iiner S ort: or. Sugar-Coated Sam‘s Claim.
By Edward . Wheeler.

119 Buck, the Detective; or, Paul, the Boy Pard. By
Albert W. Aiken. «

220 Crick-Shot Frank: or. Bill Bounce, the Mann
tain Bravo. By Charles Morris.

22l Merle the Middy; or, A Waif of the Waves. 'By
Colonel Prentiss Ingmham.

222 Rosebud Ben’s Boys; or, The Young Prairie
Rangers. By OllCoomes.

223 Gold Conrad‘s Walcthgs; or. The Two Pards
of Vulture Bar. liyg‘. C. Harbaugh.

224 Frisky Fergus, the ew York Boy. By G. L.

' Aiken.
225 Dick Drew. the Miner 's Son; or. Apollo Bill, the

Road—Agent. By Edward L. Wheeler.

226 Dakota Dick in Chicago; or. Jack, the Old Tar.
By Charleorris.

227 Merle, the Boy Cruiser; or, Brandt the Buc-
caneer B Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

228 The Preac er Detective; or The Boy Ventrilo-

uist. By 011 Coomes.

229 ld Hickor ’s Grit. By John J. Marshall.

280 The Three oy Sports; or. The Sword Hunters.
By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

231 Sierra] Sam, the Detective. By Edward L.

ee er.

232 Merle Monte’s Treasure; or. Buccaneer Brandt’s
Threat By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

288 Rocky Rover Kit; or. Davy Crockett's Crooked
Trail. B Ensign C. D. Warren.

234 Baldy, o Miner Chief. By Capt. J. F. 0.

Adams.

235 Jack Stump’s Cruise; 01-. The Montpelier‘s Muti-
neers. By Roger Starbuck.’

236 Sierra Sam's Double' or, The Three Female De-
tectives. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

237 Newsboy Ned. D-tective; or Two Philadelphia
Gamins. By Charles Morris.

238 Merle Monte’s Sea-Scraper; or. Little Belt's
Droll Disguise. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

239 Ben‘s Big Boom: or. The Boss Miner‘s League.
By Capt. Mark Wilton.

240 Sharp Shot Mike; or. Colambia Jim on the War-
Path. By 011 Coomes.

211 Sierra. Sam’s Sentence; or. Little Luck at Rough
Ranch. By Edward L. Wheeler:

242 The Denver Detective; or, Dainty Dot at Gold

- Gulch. By T. C. Harbaugh.

248 Dutch Jan‘s Dilemma; or. The Mysterious
Mountain Monster. B Maj. L. W. Carson.

244 Merle Monte's Disguise; or. The Capture of
Brandt, the Buccaneer. By Col. P. In raham.

245 Baldy‘s Boy Partner; or, Young ramerd’s
Steam Man. B Edward 8. Ellis.

246 Detective Keen s Apprentice? or. James Jumper
the New York Gamin. By Charles Morris.

247 The Girl Sport; or, Jumbo Joe’s Disguise. By
Edward L. heelor.

248 Giant George's Pard: or, Arizona Jack, the'
Tendertoot. By Buckskin'Sam.

249 Ranch Rob’s Wild Ride; or Old Winch The
Rifle King. By T. C. Harbaug .

250 Merle Monte’s Pardon; or, The Pirate Chief's
Doom. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

251 The Deaf Detective; or, Weasel. the Boy Tramp.
. By Edward‘Willett.

  

 

 

  

m
i. .--.

q I‘ .

A», v q.
'1... " ‘1

.-.i«$ ".4
z; \ _. -, ,‘

 

252 Denver Doll's Device; 'or. The Detective Queen,
B Edward L. Wheeler.
253 T ie Boy Tenderfoot: or. Roaring Ben Bundy of
Colorado. By Capt. Mark Wilton.
254 Black Hills Ben; or, Dutch Jan on the War-
Plllll. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson.
%5 Jolly Jim, Detective; or, The Young Protege’s
Victory. By Charles Morris.
256 Merle Monte‘s Last Cruise; or. The Sea Robber
at Bay. By Col. Prentiss lngraliam.
‘15? The Boy Chief of Rocky Pass; or, The Young
California Pards. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain.
258 Denver Doll as DeteCIive. By E. L. Wheeler.
259 Little Foxcye. the Colorado Spy. B 911 Coomes.
2:30 Skit. tllu Cabin Boy. Ry Edward \ ’illett. .
all Blade, the. S OH? or, the. Giant of Clear Grit
Camp. B . Charbaugh.
262 Billy. the lloy Boyer. By Col. P. In raham.
263 Buster Bob's Buoy' or. Lige. the ight-House
Keeper. By Ca t.  F. C. Adams.
264 Denver Doll's ariner; or, Big Buckskin the
Sport. By E. L. Wheeler.
2653 Billy, the Baggage Boy: or. The Young Railroad
Detective. lly Charles Morris.
266 Guy‘s Boy Chum; or. The Forest Waif‘s Mask.
BY Capt. Conistock.
267 Giant Geo ge‘s Revenge; or. The Boys of “ Slip-
IRMine.” By Buckskin Sam. -
268 ’ e Deadshot Dandy; or, The Rio Grande
Marauders. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
269 The Quartzville Boss; or. Daring David Darke.
By Edward Willett.
270 Denver Doll‘s Mine; or. Little Bill’s Big Loss.
By; E. L. Wheeler.
271 E 0in Jim’s Terror; or,Ranger Rainbows Ruse.
By Oll Coomes.
272 Kit. the Girl Detective. By T. C. Harbaugli.
273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned's Surprise. By
Jos. E. Badger. Jr.
274 Dead Shot Dandy‘s Double; or. Benito. the Boy
Pard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
275 Fred. the Conan Wail; or, The Old Sailor’s
Protege. By Charles Morris.
9Y6 Deadwood Dick Trapped. By Ed L. Wheeler.
277 The I viot Boy Avenger; or. Captain Wild-Cat’s
Big Game. By Albert W. Aiken.
278 Arizona All’. the Miner; or, Little Snap Shot‘s
Luck. By T. C. Harbaugh.
[279 Colorado Jack. the Tiger; or, The Ghost oi.“ the
Trailer. By Frederick Dewey.
_ 280 Dead Shot Dandy’s L'ist Deal, or. Keno ,Kit‘s
New Role. Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
281 Ned, tlllf Bov 'lot; or, The Pirate Lieutenant‘s
Doom. By Jack Farragut.
W2 Buck Hawk. Delective; or. the Messenger Boy‘s
Fortune. By Edward L. Wheeler.
283 Roving Sport Kil ; or, The Ghost of Chuckaluck
Camp. By Edward \\'illett.
284 The Showman's Best Card; or, The Mad Animal
Tamer. By Capt. Fred, Whittaker.
285 Olvl Rocky's l’ard; or, Little Ben's Chaso. By
Buckskin Sam.
L’flli Dick, thi- Dakota Sport. By Charles Morris.
287 Ned. the B Skipper; 013‘ The Sea Sorceress’
Cruise. By Jack i‘nrragut.
283 Deadwood Dick‘s Disguise; or, Wild ~Walt, the
Sport. Bv Edward L. Wheeler.
289 Col‘nrado Nick. the Lnssoist; or. Old Si‘s Protege.
By Major II. B. Stoddard.
290 Rube. the Tenderfnot: r-r. the, Boys of Torpedo
Gulch. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.
291 Peacock Pete. lhe Leadville Sport; or, Hawk, the
Boss Miner. By Albert W. Aiken. '
292 Joe Morey. the Night-Hawk; or. the Black Rider.
By J 05. E. Badger, Jr.
298 Dwarf Jake. the Detective; or. Kit Kenyon's
Man-Hunt. By Edward Willett.
294 Dumb Dick‘s Pard' or. Eliza Jane. the Gold
Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
296 White Wing. the Ferret Flyer. By Chas. Morris.

296 Govlnda. the Tiger-Tamer; or, The American
Horseman Abroad. By 011an F. Whittaker.

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manure roomm- 1.1mm:

297 Arizona Giant George; or The Boyees of Sardine-
Box City. B Buckskin m.

298 Dais Doll's ash; or, The Ten Colorado Pards.
BK .C. Harbaugh.

299 T e Balloon Detectives; or. Jack Slasher’s Young
Pard. By Barry Euton.

300 Deadwood Dick s Mission. B E. L. Wheeler.

301 gaudy Duke. the Cowboy. y Major E. L. St.

ram.

302 Big Bunson’s Bet. By T. C. Harbaugh.
303 The Hotel Boy Detective; or. The Grand Central
Robbery. By Charles Morris. .

301 Bald Head's Yard; or, Creeping Cat‘s Cunning.

By Buckskin Salli.
305 Dusky Dick’siDuel; or. The Demon‘s Trail. By
Barry Hazari .
306 Spotter sz; or, The Store-Detective‘s Decoy.
B E. L. Wheeler. '
807 ick the B0 Sport; or. Three Plucky Pards.
By ajor E. . St. Vrain.
308 DoubleFisled Mat: or, The Mystic California
Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, J r. .
309 0d Grayheard's Boy: or. The Girl‘s Ruse. By

C. Dunnin Clark.
310 Kit, the ‘irl Ca tain: or. The Mad Sailor‘s
Legacy. By 001. remiss In raham.

By Buc skin Sam.

311 Frio Freu in Texas. .
The Miners 0:

312 The Detective Road-Agent; or
Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

31:: Honest Jack‘s Protege: or. The Dwarfs Scheme. , ' ;

By Philip  Warne.

314 Clip the Boy Sheriff; or, The Two Cropks of
Montana. By Edward Willett.

3X5 Tom the Arizona Sport: or. Howling Hank from
Hard Luck. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

"£116 The Street Arab Detective; or, Dick Dorgan‘s
Double Dealing. By Charles Morris. ‘

317 Buckskin Ben of Texas; or. Single Eye 3 Plucky
Pards. By Buckskin Sam.

318 Colorado Char.ie's Detective Dash; or, The .‘
Cattle Kings. By Edward L. Wheeler. \

319 Frisky Frank in Idaho; or. Old Sklnflint the,
Shadower. By Roger Starbuck. I

320 Cool Sam‘s Girl Pard; or. Captain DiCk and His
Texans. By T. C. Harbaugh.

321 Billy, the. Kid l’rom Frisco; or, Silver Mask’s
Ciew. By J. C. Cowdrick. ‘

322 Fred Flynr. Detective; or. Abe Blizzard on Deck. .
By Charles Morris. -

323 Dead Shot Ike in Montana: or. Hez Helper, the
Yankee Pard. By Roger Starbuck.

324 Kit. the Denver Sport: or, The Bonanza Miner
King. By Edward L. Wheeler.

325 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The
Danny’s During Dash. By Edwin Emerson.

326 Boy. the Boy Cruiser: or. The Water Wolf
Wreckers. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

827 Ned. the Roving Miner: or. Arkansaw Jack‘s
Match. By Barry Hazard.

328 Rocky Ben‘s Band; or, Big Pete‘s Big Haul. By
W. J. Hamilton. 1

329 Davie. the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L. St.

re. 11.

830 The Denver Sport’s Racket; or. Kit‘s Big Boom.
B Edward L. Wheeler.

33! T e CoastDetuctive; or, The Smuggler Shadow-
er. By Roger Starbuck.

332 Dakota Dan in Canyon City: or. Colorado Kate‘s
Check. By Philip S. Warne. ‘

333 Bootblack Ben. the Detective: or. Pooler Jim
and His Purd. By Anthony P. Morris.

334 Frisco Tom on Deck; or. The Golden Gate Smug-
glers. By George Henry Morse.

355 en Bandy. the Boss Pard; or. The Plucky

Parson. B J. Stanlev Henderson. ,

3'38 Fred. the . rt. in Brimstone Bar Cam 2 or.
The Boston restlor’s Confederate. By .L,
Wheeler.

33’? Daisy Dave the Colorado Galoot; or. The Boss
of Dead Line Clt . By T. C. Harbaugh.

338 The Gold Bar De tive; or. Iron Ike, the Solid
Man. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

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889 Rardo, the Boy Gypsy; or, Rockloss Rolf‘s Ro-
volt, By \Vm. G. Patten.

340 Billy Bubblv‘s Big Score; or, Tim, the Tramp.
13v Charles Morris.

311 Colorado Steve’s Dash; or, Old Bunconih‘s Sure
Shot. By Philip S. \Vurne.

842 Snap Shot Sam; ory Nea Norris’s Nettle. By
Bucksin Sam.

343 Mike. the Bowery Detective; or. Peleg Prancor
of Vermont. B Edward L. \Vhecler.

844 The Dru 'mner bport; or. (‘aptain Dasher’s Droll
Dilemma. By Edward Willetr.

.845 Jaques. the Ilardpan Detective; or. Captain
Frisco the R.me cent. ByJ. C. (Jowdrick.

340 Joe. the Chicago Arab; or, A Boy of the Times,

{‘3‘}! Charles Morris. .
347 iddy Herbert’s Prize: or The Girl Captain‘s
Revenge. By (‘01. l’reni.i‘~‘s narahmn.
348 Sharp—Shower Frank; or, Tue Young Texan
Paras. By Buckskin Sam.
849 Buck the Minor: or.Alf, the Colorado Guide.
» fiy Maj. E. L. St. Vrain. .
4350 ed the Slab Cit, Sport; or, The bctective’s
Big Sc )op.‘ By E. Whveler.
351 Rocky'Mountain Joe; or. DA-acrm Simpliciiy on
, the War- ath. By 00]. T. H. Monstrry.
’ 352 New Yor ' Tim; or, T..e Boss 0f the Boulevard.
' By Charles Morris.
853 The Girl» Pilot; or, Ben. the Reef-Runner. By
Roger Starbuck.
8541'Joe, the Boy Stage-Driver; or. Nick Hicken’s
Cunning By Maj E. L S. Vrain.
855 Texas Frank’s Crony;~ or, The Girl Mustang
Rider. Bv Books in Sam.
356 Idaho Ned. Detectiva; or, The Miners of Tarpot
* City. By Edward L. Wheeler.
857 Guy. the Boy Mine-r; or. Rocky Mountain Bill.
By Colonel Pronziss Tnzraham.
358 Jersey Joe, the Old Tar; or. the Wrecker’s
Protege. B Mrs. Orin Jamg-s.
, 859 Dandy Dick s Bush; or. The Boy Cattle-King.
B OllC)mes.
860 J m’s Big Bonanza: or, Jake Dodd and His
GER. - W. J. Hamilton.
861 Oregon iii, the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two
. .- Bits. By Philip S. Warne.
-362 Kit, the Boolblack Iletictivo; or. From Phila-
' delphia. to the Rockies. By Edward L. Wheeler.
863 ’1‘ ie Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, tho Tar. By
T. C. Harbaugh. ‘ '
86! Fritz‘s Old Score; or, Sib Cono‘s Right. Bower.
I By Ned Buniline.
865 Crack Shot Harr ; or, The Masked Rider. By
Colonel Prentiss agraham.
360 Gold Dust Rock, the Whirlwind of the Mines.
By G. Waldo Browne.
1" 367 Fred’s Boldv Game; or, The Cave Treasure. By
Paul Bibbs.
868 Jim. the Sport, in Wake-up: or, Foghorn Fan to
the Front By Edward L. Whm-lvr.
869 Captain Blake’s Jonah; or, Harry, the Cabin
Boy. By Rogcr Starhuc :.
870 Dvnver Kit‘s Donblu; or, The Giant Minor of the
Gulch. Ry Major H. B. Stoddard.
' 371 Blue Blazes Dick: 01'. Danger Doll oi.‘ Dynmnitc.
‘ By T. C. Flax-hunch. .
872 The Sea Cat’s Prize' or. The Flag of tho Bed
‘ Hands. By Colonel Prentiss Inuraham.
873 Larry O’Lynn‘s Dash: or, Kyle, the Renegade.
, B Joseph F‘. Henderson.
374 J m, tho C ort‘s Eli: Boom; or. The Bonanza
' King’s Riva, By Edward L. Wheeler.

 

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B‘s—63:3 A” c346, C. 6 Q: " "

375 Bowery Rob, Detective; or, lianca, the Tam—
) bourine-(lirl. lianI’il-rcc. '

370 llurhskin Dick‘s (‘ll-an swoop: or, Jonathan
JL-uks’ Srill llunl‘. lly Col. Arthur 1“. llolt.

5-377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lin-Lit. S. G. Lansimz.

37* Bronco Billy, the Sulldlv l’rincu. by Colonel

’ pi‘t‘DLlSS ingraham.

3/!) erk. tho Stowaway; or. \ Yankee Boy's Strange

‘ Liruisr. By Charles Morris.

JEOXonnp; Dick ’l‘alhol: or, A B'y‘s Rough and
Tumble Fight from New York to California. By
Ahm‘t W. Aiken.

381 Dandy Bill’s Doom; or, Dverhunter, the Boy
Scout. 3y Oll (looms.

382 Wide-Awake ( Gorge, the Boy Pioncor. By Ed.

viiil-tr.

:le )Vild Bill. the I’islol Prince. l’y Colonel Prentiss

“graham.

384 Brimsh no l’ill‘s Booty: or. Mariposa Marsh at
“Hid Man’s Gulch By Josvph E. Badger. Jr.

355 The Boy 'l'rani )s; or. The Rougi.s of Demon
ilullow. By J. J. Hoffman.

3%» The Myninna Kid; or. Liqu Dan Rock‘s Mis-
swn. By )lorris Rlll'lwlllg. \

387 The Boy Dutl'ctives; or, Broker Bloudin‘s Big
‘ Rmvdrd. By '1‘. (J. Ilarhaugh.
388 This Pony Exprvss Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s
Frontier Fouls. 13y Col. Prentiss Innraham.

389 Nov York Bill. the Dmitri-‘1'; or. Two Boys Who

Wore “Bounced ” By Edward Willett.

300 The Tirket-ofiLeavo’s Trick; or, Spring Steel.
Kng of the Bush. By J .scph E. Badger, Jr.

301 Clini‘ll‘y Skylark, the Sport. By Major Henry
B. Stoddard.

flfl'.’ 'l‘”.\’fl.s Jack, the Mustang King.
'Prmitiss lngralzam.

393 Peter, the.Dandy Greunhorn. liy Noah Nufl‘.

3 4 Tom Temple‘s Bi;r Strike. By Barry Ringgohl.

395113TI‘Y, Ilia Country Boy, in New York. By
Charlvs Morris.

396 Detective Paul’s Right Bower.

39? Tip TI'CSS’c'll, tho Flulhoar. Buy.

SUB Captain Jack in Rocky loost.
lngralmm.

399 Hairy Seniors. thu Magician.

400 Blzu-k llorso llill, the Bandit \Vrl‘cker.

Ito; or Slarlmck.

’l‘im, thn Mule Boy of tho/Mines. By Chas. Morris,

Flatbuat ll‘rvd on the Mississippi. 145' E \Vixlrtt.

Jakr. tho Colorado Circus Boy. liy Bryant

llaiullrihge.

’l‘i-xas Charlie‘s Wild Ride. By (M1. 1’. lng‘rulmm.

Wide-Awth Ned; or, The loy Wizard. By

Barry Ril"?,’.‘0i1l, I

Ready OutoLl-r‘l‘l.
406 Giant Polo and His Pards.
Ri-ally Outolwr gl.

.1 .va I .x-m [firm-y ll’ednvay.

By Colonel

By C. D. Cliirk.
By lid. Will tt.
By Col. Prouiss

lty S. ’.V. Pivrco.
By

401
408
403

401
405

By T. C. Ilarbaugh.

BEAnLH‘s Por'iu-z'r humor is for sale by all News-
dralors, fivo (wills prr copy, or want by mail on rat
ccipt of six cents each.

BEADLE AND Alums, Publishers,
98 William Street New York.

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